#head grandmother of everything the Director

[tteokdoroki]

ೀ⋆OCT 1ST PRINCESS DIARIES ━━ satoru gojo + breeding !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. satoru gojo + breeding. thirty days until you become queen, thirty days to get married and thirty days to stop sneaking around with the man trying to steal your crown… (5.2K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, royalty!au, enemies to lovers (?), forbidden romance, infidelity and cheating, spit kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, pregnancy kink, breast play, agoraphilia, baby trapping, oral sex (f!recieving), unprotected sex, princess + fem!reader, lord!satoru gojo.

୨୧ — director’s note. woo happy spooky season my loves. welcome back to another tteokdoroki kinktober! im excited for you to see whats in store this year, hope you enjoy this fic to start off mwah! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

you have thirty days to get married.

being from a small town, somewhere that’s not even on the map — you never expected your family name to carry much meaning aside from the one you carved out for yourself. let alone expect your name to come from royalty.

if you thought discovering how to be a teenager at sixteen was hard, then try discovering how to be a princess at sixteen on for size. everything you’ve ever done since finding out you were royalty has been for your family. you’ve kept your head down, out of the spotlight aside for the occasional appearance and charitable events. you’ve studied hard, double-majoring in international relations alongside political science and diplomacy. 

you��ve prepared yourself thoroughly enough to feel ready to take the mantle of queen — especially with your grandmother planning to step down. all of your accomplishments have been leading up to this very moment — it’s so close that you can practically feel the weight of the crown on your head. 

except there’s one itty, bitty, little problem.

you still have to get married in thirty days. otherwise, your family title will be poached from right beneath your nose.

satoru gojo (aka public enemy number one) is the nephew of a member of parliament who just so conveniently knows genovian law better than your grandmother does. since satoru came of age before you did, and he’s lived in genovia for longer than you have, and has some random distant relative in connection to the first king — the men of parliament have decided that he too is in line for the throne. 

especially if you, the princess, do not marry before your coronation. 

how ridiculous is that? 

and not only is this satoru gojo an evil, conniving, crown-stealing bastard. but he’s charming, a silver tongue wrapped around each and every one of his words. charming, like a prince (blegh) he’s also stupidly attractive. with deep sapphire blue eyes that are gorgeous enough to make the crown jewellers weak in the knees and a smile so sweet it feels like a sugar rush whenever he looks at you. there’s something so unique about the frostiness to his soft white hair, matching his unfairly long lashes — the ones you know girls back home would kill for. 

it angers you to know that you’d been dancing with your rival at your welcome ball, pains you to know that you’ll never forget his slender fingers splayed out against the small of your back to guide your every movement. if you had been back in college (and had a few litres of hard liquor in your system), perhaps gojo would have been the type of guy you’d have snuck into the dorms for a night of fun and an NDA in the morning — your secret signed away from the paparazzi’s keen eyes. 

alas, these are very different circumstances and there’s a lot riding on you being sensible about the situation. yet, satoru proves himself to be a problem every chance that he gets — cornering you in closets with his breath hot against your ear, trapping you against the walls while the ghost of his touch feels like heaven against your skin… on the staircase too, insistent on reminding you of the passionate dance you once shared.

all while you’re set to marry the duke of another country so you can keep your fucking crown (pardon the language, your highness).

suguru geto would be the perfect king consort if you managed not to mess this up. he is warm, where satoru is a flip between disastrously hot and frustratingly cold. he balances you out, a mellowness to your clumsiness whilst understanding your need for a rushed proposal and wedding. raised a gentleman, suguru is mindful of you in every action he takes. he doesn’t stare too long but smiles when you think he’s not looking and he’s a wonder with your grandmother — the parents, too. his family gem (a serpentine, making you feel much like a snake) sits heavy on your ring finger, dazzling under camera flashes at your engagement dinner…. and he recognises duty and honour above anything else too. 

if satoru is your enemy, then guilt is your friend. no matter what either of the men in your life do, you find yourself comparing their every move. when you’re with suguru your mind is away chasing the fairies, imagining the touch of another man who sets your heart alight in a cool blaze — like gasoline trickling through your veins waiting for its candle match. when you’re with satoru, all you can think about is how wrong this is. how geto doesn’t deserve this. but you’re an addict without a cure, and your drug is satoru gojo and you don’t see yourself ever  quitting him.

you're in desperate need of a wake up call and a nicotine patch, the cocky yet lecherous air about him almost acting like a smog in your healthy and capable lungs. sometimes through the fog, you wonder if satoru knows how much he weighs heavy on your mind— though if he did, you’d never hear the end of it. 

the current queen tells you not to worry about the white haired man that’s slowly freezing over the four chambers of your heart. you tell yourself that suguru geto is the only man that you need, one that could help you rule and create a beautiful and better kingdom for many years to come. geto tells you that he loves you, that he can’t wait to marry you in two or three weeks time and you respond with equal (yet, faux) excitement.

perhaps that’s why you find yourself sneaking away from this respectful, loving man to be with the one trying to ruin your life?

why are you following satoru gojo deep into the royal gardens, where the rose bushes are the only witness to your sick and twisted sins?

your back hits the jagged pattern of tree bark before your brain can catch up — causing a little wet whimper to bubble up on your pinky-peach tainted lips. the flutter of pain just beneath your skin only lasts for a second before it’s replaced by the sensation of satoru’s fingers traversing up the dips and curves of your body. he soothes you where it hurts the most, rough fingertips leaving bruising marks made with affection along your thighs and small of your back while he swallows your sweet gasps — licking into the wet cavern of your mouth to taste you. 

“you’re not even…” his words spill into you, adding fuel to the spark of lust beginning to form a pit in your stomach. “you’re not even attracted to him,” he spews, surging forward like a storm knocking on your door to press his greedy spit slicked lips to yours. his tongue, syrupy and wet, intertwined with your own, filling you up and giving you something to suck on. 

before you can even think of kissing your rival back, he retreats and takes his swollen lips with him — latching onto your neck and weaponizing his teeth against it. you gasp, your angel’s song tipping out into the rose garden while your fingers tangle in silver-moon locks and let him work against you, claiming you just below the neckline of your dress where no one will be able to see. 

except for maybe your fiancé and only god knows how you’ll be able to explain the marks to him tonight. ‘oh you know me, suguru. i’m way too clumsy for my own good.’ you’ll say, all while thinking about how the man after your crown blew your back out at your engagement party. 

you know why satoru’s acting such a fool — taking risks that he wouldn’t normally. the dress you’re wearing, the colour of his eyes, drives him fucking insane. you can’t say that you didn’t ask for this, like it wasn’t on purpose. 

“can’t fucking stand you,” gojo groans against your skin, nose pressed to your collarbone as he inhales the candied notes of your perfume. “been giving me those angel eyes all day. knowing that i can’t take my fucking eyes off of you when you wear that colour, princess.” 

he’s insufferable, but here you find yourself at the mercy of his touch — offering up your body to satoru gojo like a sacrificial lamb as your back arches away from the tree and presses your chest into his eager strawberry tongue. it leaves a slimy track over your neck and dips between the cleavage of your dress while gojo makes his descent down to hell — tasting the shimmering crystals of salt on your skin. 

satoru gojo belongs on his knees. 

kneeling before you with the royal blue tule of your dress between his shaking hands. you can tell he’s trying not to rip it off of you. born to worship you.  mirth weighs down his lashes and desire dances between the navy blue flecks in his sapphire eyes — he needs you so bad it might kill him. from this position he can practically smell how turned on you are, he’d recognise the mouth-watering aroma of your drooling cunt anywhere, slick gathering in the crotch of your barely there panties. 

there’s a depraved, royal treasure hidden between the string of fabric that runs between your juicy pussy lips — swollen and waiting to be devoured by your enemy. not that you’d ever admit that to him. “i think you should be referring to me as your queen.” you manage between ragged breaths, satoru eyeing the way your chest heaves from beneath the bust of your dress. 

instead of responding, his head unceremoniously dips beneath your skirts and he drags a thigh over the width of his broad shoulders. “watch your mouth,” the lord purrs salaciously as he licks up your inner thigh, the vibrations shooting straight to your swollen clit. “let’s remind you of who’s really in charge.” the both of you feel it, the aching throb of your pussy against gojo’s lips as he wedges his face right between your thighs. you can’t help but grind against him in wanton, desperate to be filled up with fingers, tongue whatever your sworn enemy has to offer up to the crown. 

but your warmth and wetness does nothing to coax satoru into tongue fucking his way past your clenching, creaming entrance. rather, he draws his head back just a touch and rubs at your cunt like he loves you, dips his fingers just into your quivering hole and then — smack !

juices run down satoru’s arms as if he’s taken a bite into the fruit that tempted eve while he laughs in awe of just how fucking sloppy you are between your thighs. the spank to your puffy folds makes you jolt in surprise, causing you to scratch your back against the jagged tree bark. 

“gojo!” you squeak in warning as your thighs close around his veiny hand. 

he sticks his tongue into his cheek, smirking in amusement before prying your shaky legs apart. “that’s not quite right, try again for me, princess...” gojo repeats the process, running between your slick folds and spanking you against them when you fail to respond. “you know my name, baby. c’mon it’s easy, i’ll even say it with you. d…d…” 

you refuse to stoop so low, to let demeaning words escape from underneath your tongue but not having satoru’s mouth on you is like torture — just his breath against your cunt is akin to dangling a carrot in front of a starving horse. you know what that pleasure is like, you crave it and you’re not above begging no matter how royal you may be. 

“f-fuck, daddy!” you whinge defiantly, screwing your eyes shut and letting your head fall back against the tree. satoru wastes no more time then, slotting his hot mouth against the entire length of your silken slit. the first thing he does is moan, the vibrations shooting twinges of ecstasy from your clit through the rest of your body and even reaching your head — making the world around you spin. 

the tip of his tongue teases its way past your entrance, squirming around to brush up against pleasure spots your little fingers can’t even reach. “that’s right princess, knew you could do it. you’re not just some stuck up little girl.” the white haired lord praises, drawing back from your quivering hole — connected to you by a string of your glistening slick. 

“shut up, just… put your mouth to good use.” you grunt, your hips canterint down onto gojo’s face to keep him quiet. your fingers take root in his silvery moon locks, dragging the man and his pink tongue onto your sex once more. gojo takes the hint, making your cute little clit his next victim as he rolls it between perfect rows of pearly whites and sends your eyes into the dark depths of your skull. 

the sinful and salacious sensation provides a welcomed distraction from your responsibilities as the crown princess. if your grandmother could see you now, you know that all she’d feel is disappointment— especially if she knew her granddaughter was fucking the biggest threat to the crown. and suguru, your poor fiancé — he was probably stuck mingling with guests he didn’t even know, looking for your eyes in the crowd like he always did. 

shame should be burning through your veins, not the white hot trickle of desire that you’re filled with as satoru slurps your juices from between your fat pussy lips. the needy groans he lets out against you inch down your spine, drown you in stormy waves of lust and you find yourself addicted to the bob of gojo’s head from underneath your tule skirts. you’re just so wet, pouring the royal family’s riches, liquid gold straight into the man’s greedy mouth as he drinks you in.

your nectar glazes his cheeks and chin in a devilish shine, brighter than the crown set to sit atop your head — his mouth barely parts from your ravaged and swollen romping as if he’s married to eating you out, tongue licking you up and down before your juices even have a chance to drip to the ground. you can only imagine what would happen if the press found out, your life would be over and so would satoru’s. but you don’t care, because every second that gojo spends between your thighs dragging you to orgasm is worth it. every single time. 

he grips at your ass, pulling you back onto his tongue as it flickers in and out of you. the whole ordeal is disgusting and delightful and you never want it to end. pleasure mounts high within you, evident in the shakiness of your gripes and grouses, lust laden in its tune. 

“s-satoru…satoru. i’m gonna… g’na fuckin’ cum!” a high pitch squeal tears in your throat like music to gojo’s ears — now working relentlessly to get you off just like you need. he doesn’t care if he’s suffocating, at least he’ll die a happy man between the thighs of a princess. 

he chuckles against your sex. “such a dirty mouth for such a proper lady.” the lord says as if he’s a scolding you.

but you can barely hear him, for static rings in your ears as your body loses the war to your orgasm. your release bubbles up on his tongue like the fresh pop of champagne, while your brain fizzles and clears itself of all logical thought. guilt is replaced by bouts of lust, making you realise that this cycle of avoiding and fucking gojo will never end. you’re too addicted to him and he’s too obsessed with you, as long as things remain that way — sex with him will always be on the agenda. 

you can’t promise yourself, your grandmother or suguru that this will be the last time. 

dopamine dances across gojo’s brain as he drinks in the tangy-honey flavour of your release, letting it splatter against his puffy lips as they encircle your clit to prolong your orgasm. you gush as if you’re a rushing erotic river, spilling into satoru’s earnest mouth while he licks you clean with wanton.

“look at that… oh look at you. cumming for me already.” 

“f-fuck you.”

“fuck me?” he smirks, making your gut lurch with wanton. “fuck you. i’m the one that’s working on it, princess.” satoru slowly rises to his feet, licking a nasty spit-slicked trail from your hole to the cleavage peeking out from underneath your dress. he doesn’t even stand to his full height, his large frame towering over you as he yanks down the front of your dress to lick and suck and play with your breasts until you can’t tell what’s up or down anymore.

his perfect teeth graze a pert nipple which makes you gasp and cry, loosely looping your arms around satoru’s neck while his ravaging mouth works your sensitive breasts, even going as far to swipe his tongue over the spot where each one meets your ribcage. he doesn’t leave any marks, you’re not his to keep. large and rough hands replace the warmth of his mouth on you to toy with your mounds of flesh — pinching and pulling as satoru kisses you senseless. you groan at the taste of your slick on his tongue and salt of your skin as well, tugging him closer so that there’s no space between your heated bodies. 

“don’t cry,” satoru comments softly against your swollen, cherry-bitten lips — cupping your face between his fingers. blinking slowly, you allow your frenzied brain the chance to catch up to reality  and you don’t realise the tears that wet your cheeks until he points them out. why are you even crying? “you’re too pretty for that.” his compliments do nothing to clear the lustful, confused fog settling over your mind like a dark cloud so you follow your body’s instincts and reach for the metal clasp on his belt. 

nimble fingers make their way down the front of gojo’s dress pants and he hisses at the quick pumps of his perfectly hard cock before you’re dragging up your skirts and guiding him towards your entrance. “baby, wait—“

you push his pants down enough to let his erection spring free, pulsing with need and standing at full mast against the cotton blouse covering his tummy. “i need you.” you sniff, dropping your panties to your ankles. “please.” 

the thing about sex with satoru is that it never feels like just sex. he tenderly hikes the meat of your thigh over his slender hips, lets his dribbly, sticky cockhead twitch forward and ease past the salaciously slick barriers of your empty hole, and presses your bodies so close together that you think you might forget how to breathe. satoru makes love to you each and every time — and it’s terrible. 

like eating too much sugar or indulging in a bad smoking habit. you’re not supposed to be in love with him and the way he fucks up into you, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis even with all of the fabric in the way. “don’t cry for him, f-fuck,” the both of you look down, your pupils dilating at the sight of your pussy swallowing his lengthy shaft whole — catching on the ridges of each blue vein spiralling around him. “cry for me, princess. i’m the one that’s ruining you.” 

with his forehead pressed to yours, silver hair matted down by the line of perspiration against it — satoru braces a hand against the tree above your head and sets stream to his passionate thrusts, fluid like water under a bridge. it’s not fair, how wrong this is and how good it feels to have gojo lick over the parts of you he would bite down on if you were his. your pulse point, your neck, the spot just under your ear that’s way too sensitive for your own good. it should be suguru fucking you like this, your fiancé. 

yet, there’s no room for self-loathing and despair between the rough tree and satoru gojo above you. nothing aside for the thick curtain of lust that protects you from prying eyes in the rose garden, floral scents twisting with the raw, aphrodisiac-like smell of sex and sweat while he pounds away at your swollen pussy, grinding his cock wetly against the sweet spots dotted along your ribbed walls. 

“i should put a baby in you,” he says suddenly, just barely audible over the wet pap, pap, pap of your sexes working together. embarrassment burns bright under the surface of your cheeks because you’re that wet and it’s that loud, the remainders of your previous orgasm making it easier for satoru’s cock to glide in and out of you. “leave you with a little gift. a present — reminder of our time together, yeah?” he knows that he’s not making any sense, leaving his confession behind sex and sultry words. he would never admit to how much he loves you, he’s already ruined you enough. he’s already taken more than enough from you too. “i’ll get to the crown either fuckin’ way.” 

satoru talks with his dick and you fucking like it, squeezing the damn daylights out of him. he can barely pull back with you locked down on like that, his seedy tip snug between your ruined folds — clinging into him by viscous ropes of your last orgasm and freshly formed globs of his white hot precum. “you like that, don’t you princess?” he coos down to you condescendingly, picking up the pace of his hips as he rams into you mercilessly. the tree shakes from the force, sprinkling pretty and innocent petals over you both. “you wanna make me a daddy? my queen? give me a little prince or princess.”

“fuck yes, satoru!” nodding your head with wanton, you press yourself into his neck and squeeze him close by the ass cheeks so the only place your lover can go is deeper. you want to be able to feel him in your guts, hot in your womb like an iron rod — anything to forget the trickle of betrayal filling you up like a glass of wine. “i want it, i want it…i want—“

you cut yourself of with an abrasive sob, as you moan your agreements. i want you. you feel the words on the tip of your tongue, drowned out by the slippery sounds of sex and creaking tree trunk. you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you’ve wanted satoru gojo.

but he’s the wrong person, in the wrong place, at the wrong time. 

“i know you do, i know,” you can feel gojo move to slobber over your chest, pacifying his whistle tone whimpers with your nipples bouncing in his mouth. he looks up at you with vacant cerulean eyes that shimmer like the skies above, the crude mix of your arousals slinging at the point at which your bodies join. “tell me how much you love daddy’s cock, princess.” 

he goads because he craves your attention. satoru can feel you slipping from between his fingers, the guilt that rolls off of you in waves as he languidly rams into your cunt. he’s asking a lot of someone who’s too stimulated, too fucked out to speak — your tongue barely staying in your mouth. 

“sato—!”

“c’mon… answer me, fuck, there we go.”

that’s when he hikes you up in his arms, lifting you a little to feverishly thrust up into you — dragging you closer to another high. your nails dig deep into his taut ass, nudging his dick against your g-spot. suguru would never be this rough with you, would never want to fuck you so good that the pleasure hurts.

shaking your head, your eyes glisten but the denial doesn’t stop small streams of arousal from squirting out and webbing against gojo’s soft pubes. “i-i can’t! i don’t—“ satoru bites down on your nipple, hard, cutting through your train of blurry thought. “i love…h-him!” 

you love your fiancé, but you both know that’s a lie.

“yeah, sure you do. that’s why your pussy’s huggin’ my cock so tight. you don’t wanna let me go, baby.” even while he’s a mess for you, your rival still finds it in him to be such an egotistical prick. you can’t even tell him that he’s wrong, because you never ever want to be without satoru, without this immensely overwhelming feeling of ecstasy fluttering through your entire body. it’s all too much, he’s too much, stretching you wide and filling you with the love (and cum) you should be getting from suguru. 

thunder cracks above your head, lightning flashes through the trees as if the higher power up above is bearing witness — growing distraught at your sins. it’s not long before the heavens open up on you both and your sweaty, sex slicked bodies are doused in rain. but it doesn’t stop you, doesn’t stop satoru from dragging down your bottom lip to lovingly spit into your mouth. 

he kisses you as if it’s not enough, rocking his hips into you so he can bully your insides and mark them with his pre. “bet he’s lookin’ for you right now, hm? his precious wife to be…drenched in my cum ‘n drenched in the rain.” satoru heaves, letting the patter of the rain drown out the sound of his tightening balls slapping against your ass. “bet he wishes he could fuck you like i do.” 

you can’t tell if it’s the tears of guilt and longing or the rain that blurs your vision. “h-he doesn’t get to!” you cry like a dirty porn-star, hardly becoming of a soon to be queen. “o-only you!” 

“only me, hm? i’m flattered.” he seems elated, hiding his flushed face and happy smile in the junction between your neck and shoulder. his wet hair tickles your skin. “too bad he doesn’t know his princess comes used and abused between her pretty legs, huh?”

the rain is cold against your skin, seeping through your clothes, ruining your makeup — but the way satoru licks up your hot streaky tears and the droplets of water against your skin as if to sooth you… the way he does it fills you with warmth. 

your limbs become heavy from your water-logged clothes and exhaustion, your whole body slumped against satoru’s strength but you still manage to rake your nails down his back as if you can’t be any closer. gojo doesn’t let your hips run from his either.  his mind races, stuck on the idea of asking you to run away with him because he can’t just let you go back to geto. not again. 

he can’t let you marry someone you’re not in love with. 

it would be selfish of him to ask you to stay, even when you wrap your legs around him and have him plug up your tiny little hole with sticky white. he sees it in your eyes how much you care for him, even through the rain. he’s ruining you, from the inside out, knocking the crown from your head and he hates it.

“daddy loves this pussy,” he wishes for the moment to last forever, but you’re already so close — crying from every hole, suffocating his throbbing cock. neither of you can hold back. “he loves you. i love you.”

the confession nearly tears your world in two — but it’s all you need to hear before everything comes crashing down on you. “i-i love you!” you tell him, wailing the words loud and proud as you release on him for a second time, gushing obscene amounts against gojo’s tummy smooshed up on your clit. “sato—! satoru! cum with me, cum inside me!” scratching down his back and screwing your eyes shut, you tilt your head up to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. 

the taste of salt on your cupid’s bow throws gojo over the edge too — his cockhead pours viscous white directly into your womb. “fuuuck, you’re so good princess…” and even though you know you should tell him to pull out, you don’t want him too. you want his baby, want his cum, want him always. even if that’s greedy of you.“fuckin’ take it…take all of me. all of that cum’s for you.” he slurs, beyond brainless.

lewd clapping noises echo between your bodies like the thunder up above as satoru fucks you through the rest of your highs, nose nudging your cheeks tenderly to soothe your tears. moaning, and crying against one another’s swollen lip. when his slow grinds come to a stop and your breathing recovers, the white haired lord gently sets you back in the ground — tenderly helping you to fix your drenched clothes back into place. 

your thighs are completely bruised and his back is completely torn up. the last marks you’ll ever leave with each other.

“so about—“

“we… we can’t do this anymore, satoru.” you say almost immediately, shaky as if you’re in the verge of panic. 

for the first time since you started doing this, sneaking off with one another, gojo notices the glint  on your ring finger. and you feel the very same weight of that ring. 

he shrugs you off, pulling up his pants and smirking. “that’s what you said last time—

“no satoru, i mean it now. we can’t.” it’s like you’ve come to your senses, realised the gravity of it all and what’s at stake. thirty days to get married, thirty days to become queen. “i’m going to become queen, your queen, in a matter of weeks and to do that i need to be married to him. i can’t mess this up. we have to stop.”

“but you don’t even want him,” he growls like a petulant child, roaring above the rain that cascades down on you both. “you want me. i want you. who gives a fuck about anything else?”

“duty gives a fuck! i have to marry him!”

throwing his hands up in defeat, satoru steps towards you, loud and intimidating, and you step back towards the tree. “you can’t even say his fucking name.” 

“his name is suguru geto and i will marry him because you forced me to.” you spit, going toe to toe with him — chest heaving but tight from your heart break. “if you and your stupid higher ups had just stayed out my way. maybe there could have been a chance for us. but they didn’t and here we are and duty freaking calls, gojo.” 

you storm off shortly after, be before he can see you cry again (for real this time). from his place hidden in the royal gardens, gojo watches sullenly as you approach your grandmother and fiancé — the elder queen disappointed in your current state and suguru clearly worried that the rain might make you catch a cold. 

the perfect alibi to cover up the fact that you’d just fucked satoru gojo. 

but the entire time, you never look back. 

you don’t even look at gojo — and  that’s how he knows you meant it. you always look back, always look for him in the crowd. 

the knowledge hits him like a strike of lightning. he’s royally fucked up — you’re marrying for the crown, all because of him. and there’s no room for loving when you’ve got the weight of the nation on your shoulders.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#୨୧ KINKTOBER 23’ #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x y/n #gojo thirst #jjk thirsts #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #angelshubnetwork

[phenomenalgirl9]

Jungkook x Reader: Lost You

Summary: You've always been in love with him, but today you were done waiting for him, to see you, to understand you. You were finally done with Jeon Jungkook.

Wc: 1.9k

A/n: I tried something new idk how it is. I'm almost nervous to post it. But who cares 😶‍🌫️. Anyway Chan and Jimin were spotted in a restaurant in comfy clothes and I'm digging that!

⚠️: Its kinda sad (?!), Jungkook is a douche bag, a little suggestive.

_____________________________________

You kept calling him but no use, his phone was switched off. He should have been here 3 hours ago. You hoped, he was in a business meeting as he told you when you asked him to come home by 6 and he said he'd be home by 7 as he had a meeting. 

You still remember the first day you met him, back when you were both 10 in one of your dad's fancy parties. "His father is important to the company, they are new in town, go play with him and be friends. Ok, Y/n?" Your mother had told you with a sweet smile on her face as you nodded. And the rest was history. Considering your circle mostly considered if the children of the other directors and business partners he fit in with all of you well. 

15 more minutes passed, and you could only worry more, you walked to the kitchen to get some water and placed your phone and whatever you had in your hand on the counter and get a glass of water, mid way of drinking it you heard the sound of your door open and close and you rushed to see. 

"Jungkook?" You called out his name and he looked at you wide eyes like a doe caught in headlights, an expression floated on his face which looked like remembrance. 

"You were with her weren't you?" The question flew from your mouth before you could filter it and you found that look filled with guilt on his face. You scoffed and folded your hands and started to walk off to your shared room when he said. 

"Why are you like this? She needed me okay!" Jungkook said. "What about me Jungkook? I, your girlfriend, needed you! And you went off with Minji" you said in frustration. "Don't say as if I was sleeping with her. She's still my good friend" he argued and you walked to the kitchen to grab your belongings and stepped inside the room he and you shared. 

You slid down to the ground as you closed the door. You still remember that day she walked into your life, Seo Minji. 

It was when you were 15. 

"Hey, isn't that the new kid?" Mingyu asked and you nodded. "Aw she's sitting alone" Jihyo said frowning, "Y/n go invite her here" Chan said, elbowing you. "Why me?" You asked, not like you were opposed to this aspect but you were simply curious. "You're good at this. I'm saying from experience" Jungkook said flashing his bunny smile, the smile that made your heart skip a beat, you would have done anything for that smile.

And you did, you invited Minji to your table, soon you found out her father actually worked for your father. "I feel strange sitting among you guys,I don't think I fit in" she said shyly. "Bullshit, we're all people" you daid ensuring her, "Yeah, there's nothing much different between you and us, welcome to our group" Jungkook said, flashing that sane smile at here.

It was truly where it all had started, Minji trying to get the boys in her clutches. She thought you and Jihyo didn't notice her accidental touches or her kawai and weak acts in front of them. While Chan could see through them, Mingyu and Jungkook never did. 

"Why didn't you two speak up when we were trying to get Mr Kim to invite Minji to the party?" Jungkook asked and Mingyu shook his head. You tightened your fist as Chan held it to ease you up. "She'd feel out of place," Jihyo tried to reason. The truth is you didn't want her to engage further with your circle. She already got Jungkook and Migyu to get her everything she might want. You watched as she used those two as her personal atm, a bat of her eyelashes and she had the 

"Gucci bag she wanted but couldn't get as she had to buy her grandmother's medicine" 

"Prada shoes cause she was sad her (nonexistent) fish died" 

You three tried to show them the real deal, but they refused as Minji never asked, they were willing to give her because she "deserved to be happy too". 

You smiled at yourself as you heard a knock on the door. "Babe, seriously why are you angry? I swear nothing happened, we just talked, Mingyu has been ignoring Minji and she felt alone, so she just needed someone to talk to and have a glass of wine with" He said. This always happened, One call and Jungkook would go running to her. 

You remember when you were 18, and your father and Jungkook's father declared that you and Jungkook would be engaged. You couldn't help your smile, you would be wed to your best friend to the person you fell for all those years ago. You were happy that now you could help him see reason, help him come out of Minji's clutches. But one look at his face, and you felt all your feelings drain away, his face was filled with disdain and he walked away. He didn't even consider that you could be the one for him for once. Did you expect something else? Did you expect he'll come happily to you and agree to this, you idiot. 

But, how could you? You lived to look into his doe eyes that shone bright, not for you, for Minji. You lived for that toothy smile that went brighter when Minji was there. No, they never were in a relationship, rather she never came into a relationship with either Jungkook or Mingyu. 

You still remember that day when you were 21, you had just graduated and were at your father's (soon to be yours) office working on some designs about a deal with your assitant Jimin and your now business associates Bangchan and Jungkook. No you two still spoke, you all were still friends and he acted like that evening never occured like he never broke your heart and crushed it into pieces. You remember Mingyu rushing into your cabin and hugging you tightly cheering "She said yes! She said yes! Minji said yes". You were stunned for a moment, you all were. "To what?" Chan managed to ask the man who was happy beyond bounds. "To marry me!" He said, "I'll go home, I just came to tell as I knew most of you are here, I've texted Jihyo, now I gotta tell my parents!" He said with his bright smile. "Congratulations" Jimin said to the departing man, who screamed a "thank you". All of your eyes shifted to Jungkook, his face motionless, teeth gritted, his fist so tight that his knuckles were turning white, a single tear left his eye. You shouldn't but you felt like your heart ached seeing him and you realised how down bad you were still for Jeon Jungkook. "Can you guys complete the rest without me? I'll just sign it" he asked. "Yeah, sure" you said and he walked away. The next day Jihyo had called you and told you, "of course she's marrying Mingyu, he's the heir, the elder child, Jungkook is second to his brother. How is he holding up?" You gave the exact words that you told Chan earlier that day "i don't know". The truth being, he never even read your texts, you didn't have the courage to meet him. 

You sighed at the banging sound from across the door. "If you need something tell me, if not please go to the other room". "Can you open the door once Y/n please. Please" he pleaded "Go away Jungkook please" you said, you wished you had said that to him that day two years ago. 3 days after Mingyu's proposal to Minji, you found Jungkook at your door, "can I come in" he had asked you in a broken voice. Your heart broke with his, you couldn't bear to see him like that. He came in to hug you, and you patted your head. 

"She loves him, I have to accept that. I don't know how you do it Y/n" he said, and your eyes went wide, tears stung them. "How do you even bear to look at my face much less comfort me after all I've done. How do you look beyond your feelings?" He asked. "Since when have you known?" You asked. "Since 3 days ago, when I saw the hurt in your eyes and realised how you have always been there." He said holding onto your cheek. Your brain told you to pull away, to push him away, to throw him out of the room, when his face inched closer to yours. You knew what he's doing, yet you didn't pay heed to the voice in your head. You focused on the doe eyes that looked into yours deep. Those arms that slid around your waist and pulled you close. You chose to focus on those lips that were attached to yours. You had thought, maybe this time he chose you, maybe this is it for you two. And it was, for the next few months. 

Jungkook and you walked hand in hand and stood beside Jimin and Chan along with Jihyo, on Mingyu and Minji's wedding day. Gyuji marriage was the talk of the town and things were finally looking up. Until 3 months into the wedding and you all were in the same party and seemingly Jungkook and Minji caught up, "you are still my best friend" Minji had told him, you tried your best not to drain a flute of wine on her. You didn't really mind much, ge did come back to you. He did love you. Things weren't so bad a few missed dates were seen and apologized and managed up until he missed your 2nd anniversary date and then your birthday. Once because Minji was sick and Mingyu was out of town and other because he mixed up the date after he had drunk a lot the day before with Minji and got absorbed at work.

But today was your last straw, you were done waiting around for him. You were done waiting for him to see you beneath Minji's shadow. You were done crying for him. You were done with him. So you texted Chan and Jimin, asking if their spare room was empty and if you could crash for sometime. Hence, you packed a small bag, took your phone and wallet and left the apartment. "Y/n! Y/n no. Please don't leave me over this. I'll be more attentive and careful. Y/n please." He pleaded. You might have stopped if this would have been any other day, but not today. Cause today you were done with Jeon Jungkook and the bullshit that comes with him.

_____________________________________

You don't stop, he lost you. He really lost you. He walks into the room you used to share. He found a book on the floor near the bed and a white and blue strip inside it. Jungkook was familiar with this strip or well, device, his eyes shifted to the words that were written on the little screen, 'positive'. "FUCK FUCK FUCK" Jungkook cursed as he felt like tearing off his hair, he did this to himself. 

Part 2: I loved you so bad

Masterlist

Taglist: @bbl32 @back2bluesidex (for a sec I couldn't find you 🤣) @cherryblossom-2004

#imagines #bts x reader #bts #bangtan fanfic #bts imagines #bangtan #bangtan x reader #bts fluff #bangtan fluff #bts fanfction #boyfriend jungkook #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc

[hoodharlow]

Erasing Myself From the Narrative

AN: Y'all remember that angsty fic I scrapped? Well I brought it back and changed it up

Requested? No

Warnings: angst, Jack being 🤨🤨🤨, OC picking herself over Jack and smut

Word Count: 5.5k words

Luna tugged on her vintage snakeskin cowgirl boots and went to her closet for her suede beige trench coat. She grabbed her phone from its charger. She ran down the stairs when she heard the doorbell. She opened the door and threw her arms around her best friend of ten years, Jack. 

"I missed you!" Luna hugged him tighter.

"I missed you too." Jack held the back of her head and his other arm was around her back, dangerously close to her ass. 

"How was LA?" She asked, pulling away from the hug.

"What I should be asking you is: how was Paris?" He grinned. 

Luna had been in Paris the last few weeks interviewing with Givenchy. She had informally worked with them before to make some designs for Jack’s tour outfits. But Matt Williams, the creative director, reached out to her personally and asked her to send in her portfolio. 

She had a passion for fashion, Bratz pun intended. Thanks to her volleyball scholarship she was able to major in it when she went to Cornell. After graduating, she didn't have much luck finding jobs, even with her experience of working with designers and with small brands through summer internships. 

"I got the job." She shrugged like it was no big deal. 

"I fucking knew you would. What does the grilf think?" He asked.

The grilf was Luna’s grandmother. She was raised by her grandmother (and grandpa until he passed away a few years back) because her mom was a flight attendant and traveled a lot for work. Luna was a splitting image of her grandma from when she was in her twenties. Now at sixty, she looked just beautiful.  

Jack would joke that if he was her grandma's age, he would have been able to pull her. But her abuela was never moved by his charisma and laughed in his face when he would try to flirt with her. She would tell him to go for someone closer to his age range: ei. Luna. 

"I was going to tell her but I wanted to tell her in person. I was jet-lagged and slept the whole day. When I woke up, I found a note saying that she went to her book club." She explained. 

For a woman in her early sixties, Abuela had a more active social calendar than Luna. Luna had friends, but she was just very cautious of her actions and didn't do anything that could lead to any life altering consequence. Unlike her mom who did whatever she wanted with no second thought, which was how she had Luna as a high school sophomore. Luna saw what being careless could do and she did everything in her power to now get caught up in any mess. So she stayed to herself as much as possible, didn't partake in drinking or smoking like some of her friends, or had one night stands. She had her hookup, Jason Peralta, but that was as laid back as she got. She was the mom-friend of the group. The one who made all her friends send their locations and did multiple rounds when they would go out to make sure no one left. 

"I found out before the grilf? Wow, I feel honored." Jack grinned. 

"Don't, you just happened to be here." Luna shrugged.

"Man, fuck you. I'm leaving you and watching the new M. Night Shyamalan movie by myself." He frowned.

"That's fine, I'll hit up Jason." She pulled out her phone, waiting for him to call her bluff.

She wasn’t going to hit him up. If anything, she was going to just bury herself under blankets and  eat the whole pot of albondigas Abuela made while watching some Channing Tatum movies. Jason had called her earlier to see if she wanted to come over but she said no because she was meeting up with Jack. 

Jason and Luna have been on and off friends with benefits since she moved back to Louisville. Whenever they were off it was because he got to know some girl but it never worked out with his schedule. Jason played for Louisville FC and was constantly traveling which was why his agreement with Luna worked so well. They knew what they had was purely physical and if they didn’t know each other the way they did, they would have become a couple, but it never worked out. Sure they would go on an occasional date but there was an underlying agreement that it wasn’t going to develop into something serious. Another reason why it could never work out was because Luna had feelings for Jack.

Though she knew better than to act on her feelings. In the last ten years Jack never gave her a second glance. Luna was just one of the guys. She was his friend, his confidant. The one that helped him get the girl, never the girl. 

“Anyways,” Jack cut her off thoughts, “we should get going because I need to stop for gas. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” Luna nodded. 

She grabbed her mini leather bag that matched her suede trench coat. She checked that her essentials: spare cash, lip gloss, chapstick, hair ties, gum and tampons were in her bag. She swiped her keys from the large bowl by the small table by the front door and made her way outside with Jack. She locked the house and texted Abuela that she had left and would call her later. 

Jack opened the passenger door for her. He averted his gaze away from her ass when she removed her coat before climbing on. Her skirt rode up her thighs, revealing her long toned legs. Jack closed the door and went to his side. When he opened the door, he found Luna’s ass in the air as she put her things in the backseat. Her cropped knitted sweater fell down, showing off her lavender and it took everything in Jack to not ask her if her panties matched her bra. 

“All set?” he asked when sat back on her seat. 

“Yeah,” she nodded, connecting her phone to his car. 

Jack drove to Costco to fill up his car. He pulled on his hoodie and covered his face while he waited outside his car as the gas filled up. He was typing away on his phone. She figured he was making sure everything for his and Urban’s birthday party was set. Though she didn’t miss the soft smile he had as he shook his head and typed some more. Luna felt a twinge of unease in her stomach but pushed it aside. Nothing could ruin her night with Jack.

*

Luna choked on her wine, trying her best not to laugh so hard at the story Jack was telling her of him and Clay at one of his rec soccer games. They went to eat dinner after their movie. Jack called in earlier and booked them a private room. He didn’t want the other nosy guests to film them for Luna’s privacy. He rarely posted her when he hung out with his friends because his fans always turned one post into the most elaborate conspiracy theory. He just wanted Luna to himself. He didn’t see his life without her and he would protect her with his whole being. 

Their server came by with the check. Luna reached for it, but Jack swatted her hand away. He put a few hundred bills on the leather folder and placed it on the edge of the table. 

“When are you leaving to paris?” Jack asked her, sipping his water.

“April, I have a few weeks to figure out my living situation. But Matt wants me in Paris as soon as possible so we can get started on the Spring/Summer show in June.” She said before eating some more tiramisu.

“So you won’t be here for the Derby?” he asked, almost pissed. He tightly gripped his cloth napkin, his already white knuckles turning Casper white. 

“One, relax, and two, no I won’t be there for the Derby. I can maybe try to be home but I don’t know.” Luna smoothed out his hand. 

“Sorry, I just wanted you here because I’m dropping my album around that time.” He said.

“You already finished your album? Oh my god, that’s insane.” 

She knew he’d been working on his album for a while. When she visited him on tour to get some outfits fitted for him, she could tell he was going through it. After one of his shows in Denver, he practically broke down in his hotel room and told her how exhausted and burnt out he felt. But he had to push himself because he knew he had a lot of people counting on him and he couldn’t let them down. They put a lot of faith in him since the start of his career and he was eternally  grateful for their support. Luna was the one to convince him to get back into writing for the sake of writing not for work. Little by little he built an album 

“I have a few songs that need to be finalized and trimmed but it’s done. The label is aiming for a late April release.” 

“That’s exciting. Are you going to do a mini CD signing tour like you did with the last album?” she asked, finishing her glass of chardonnay.

“Nah, I’m thinking of just letting this one speak for itself.” 

“Well I better get my own signed CD.” 

“Of course you are, I can’t break tradition,” he grinned.

They finished their desserts and made their way back to his car. Jack had his arm over her shoulders and Luna wrapped her arm around his back. Once in his car, Jack connected his phone and played her a few of his songs from his album. The one that stuck out to her the most was Blame on Me. She’d seen first hand the dynamics between his brother and dad but she never expected him to write a full song about it. But he did it in the most beautiful way. She was an only child that didn’t meet her dad and was raised by her grandparents. Despite that she was able to relate to it. That’s what she loved about Jack’s song writing. No matter how corny and braggadocious or personal the songs were, there was something that was able to strike home. 

Abuela’s red Audi was parked in the driveway by the time Jack pulled up to Luna’s place. 

“Let me walk you.” Jack said, unbuckling his seat belt before she could tell him no. 

Luna nodded and followed suit. They walked up the steps. Jack stayed back one step while she was at the very top. They were of equal height. 

“I’m glad we hung out tonight. I missed you..” Luna said.

“I missed you too. We should do something again before you leave for Paris.” Jack said, pulling her into a hug. 

They hugged for what felt like an hour and pulled back a bit, still in each other’s arms. Their eyes’ met with bright smiles. ‘Now or never’, Luna thought to herself. She leaned in to him, but Jack pulled back. 

“I’m sorry Luna, but I have a girlfriend.” 

She immediately burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Those two glasses of wine…” she trailed. “I’m sorry sorry. Um, I’m gonna go inside and pretend like that didn’t happen.”

“Luna wait,” 

“Good night sir,” she said, saluting him in a terrible British accent she did when she was embarrassed and wanted to get out of a situation. “I shall see you tomorrow kind sir.” 

She entered her home without letting Jack get another word in. 

*

Luna reached in her coat and pulled out a sky blue envelope. Inside was a birthday card with a letter she wrote for Jack. She didn’t have the guts to say goodbye. She looked over to where he was. He was standing off to the side while she took pictures with her friends and they all gathered around Kathryn, his girlfriend. Even she couldn’t deny that they looked good together. According to Urban she was one of the daughters of the co-founders of the label Jack was signed to. They’ve been seeing each other for a few months so it was still pretty new. 

Though what Luna couldn't wrap around her head was that he never mentioned Kathryn in their three hour long facetime calls. If she knew she would have kept her distance and not acted as impulsive as she did the night before. 

But now knowing this made leaving for Paris much easier. After her embarrassing almost-kiss, she spent the better half of the night looking for flights to Paris. She spoke to her grandma, leaving out the kiss, and they were leaving at night to New York since there weren’t any direct flights from Louisville to Paris. Abuela was joining her for the week so they could go apartment hunting so she could get settled as soon as possible. 

“Hey I didn’t think you’d show.” Clay said, pulling her into a hug. 

“I just came by to say hi.” she told him. 

“You’re not staying?” he frowned. 

“I’m needed in Paris and I have to leave tonight.” She looked at the envelope. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Of course.” He nodded.

“Give this to Jack later.” Luna handed him the envelope. 

“You can give it to him now. He’s around here.” Clay looked sound for his brother. He caught Jack’s gaze and waved him over. He was aware of the feelings she had for Jack. “You should–”

“I’m in a rush.” She put the envelope in his hands. She gave him a tight hug. “Thank you.”

Luna squeezed his shoulder and grabbed her coat. She passed Jack and didn’t give him a second glance as she exited the venue. 

Jack frowned and began to walk in her direction, but he was stopped by some friends and pulled to the photobooth. When he finally pulled away to go to the parking lot, Luna was gone. He went back inside, going straight to Clay. 

“Why didn’t Luna stay?” he asked his brother. 

“She had to go.” 

“Go where?” 

“Paris, she was called to leave sooner.” 

“Fuck,” Jack pushed back his curls. He pulled out his phone and called her so he could at least meet her at the airport to say goodbye. 

He’d been so busy, caught up with making sure Kathryn was comfortable that he didn’t know when Luna arrived. He wasn’t sure if she’d come after their almost kiss. An almost kiss that happened at the most inopportune time. If he was being honest, years ago he’d used to think it would be him and Luna that would have gotten together. But he could never bring himself to share his feelings for her. Mostly out of fear that she didn’t feel the same. He would rather spend a lifetime having her as his best friend instead of losing for the rest of his life. 

“What the hell?” he said to himself when the call didn’t go through. He tried again and the same thing happened. He looked at Clay and in a panicked voice he asked, “Can you call her? I think I have spotty service.” 

“Babe, Neelam said it’s time to cut the cake.” Kathryn said, walking over.

“Can you tell her to wait five minutes? I’m trying to–”

She cut him off with her nose turned upward. “Jack, your friends are getting a bit rowdy. Let’s do it now, yeah?” 

“Fine,” he gave in. He looked at Clay before walking towards the cake and gave him a pleading look to try to get a hold of Luna.

Clay nodded and texted Luna. She replied almost instantly and told him to tell Jack to leave her alone. He cursed, unsure how to tell his big brother that without breaking his heart. Luckily Jack’s coat was draped over a chair. He slipped in Luna’s envelope in the inside pocket and went to his brother, ready with a lie about how he had shitty service too.

* June * 

“How many other secrets were you hiding from me Kathryn?” Jack asked too calmly for someone who just overheard their now ex-girlfriend say she tried to baby trap him because she got financially cut off from her dad. 

“Jack–”

“Do you really think I was that stupid to fall for your shit? I’m sorry you’re not fucking responsible and got cut off by your dad, but you won’t use me for your bullshit. Please get your shit, leave my key and never fucking contact me ever again.” he said.

“When my dad finds out–”

“The same dad that cut you off because you spent your trust fund on partying? Yeah go ahead and call him. I was just on the phone with him and he also heard what I heard.” he crossed his arms.

“Fuck you!” she stormed off to their room.

She had moved in two weeks ago to his apartment in Atlanta and was barely settling in so it didn’t take long for her to pack up. A few minutes later she came back to the living room with her things. In her hand was a blue envelope. 

“Here, I found it in your jacket the night of your birthday party.” She said, handing it to him.

Kathryn left without another word. Jack made a call to the lobby and had her removed from the list of people that could be taken up to his penthouse. He then blocked her number and removed her from social media. While he packed for his Europe work trip while he went through all protocols about the break up with Neelam and had her make sure all NDAs were signed. 

Once he was done packing and Jack tore the envelope from the side and carefully took out the birthday card. He recognized Luna’s loopy writing. He began reading:

Jack there’s no easy way of saying this, but I’m in love with you. I have been for years. I don’t know when or how, but I am. And because of that, I’m leaving Louisville. I can’t be in the same place you are knowing I can’t be with you. I think it’s best if we end whatever friendship we have here. 

I need time to figure out who I am. I can’t keep seeing myself as the girl who’s pining over her best friend when you’re in a relationship.despite how I feel about you, I’m happy you found someone who you can love that same way I wished you loved me. 

Thank you for all these years of friendship. I’m sorry this is how I said goodbye, but it’s for the best.

-Luna 

Jack turned the paper around to see if there was more. He checked the envelope. The only other thing inside was her half of the strip of pictures they took in a photobooth a few years back. He kept his other half in his wallet. He used to keep it tucked in his phone case, but when he started dating Kathryn, he switched it to his wallet. 

He ran his thumb over Luna. He hadn’t seen her in almost four months and they felt like hell. He’d been in Boston for a few weeks filming a new project. He put himself into work. When he wasn’t working on music, he was filming something.. 

He hadn’t seen or heard from Luna since she left. She stayed true to her word and never contacted him. She blocked him on all social media. He’d even visited Abuela to ask about her but she always gave him vague answers about her whereabouts. All he knew was that she was in Paris, but he didn’t know how she was or if she liked the city. Well he knew she liked the city. 

The first time they had gone was on a class trip in eleventh grade and snuck out to see the city. He still remembered how in awe she was at the lights and how lively the people were. That was when he realized he had feelings for her, but he was too scared to act on them. More than anything he wanted Luna in his life and he didn��t want to risk anything. So for years he kept that to himself. He felt like an absolute idiot for not seeing that Luna felt the same. 

“Is this some fucked up joke?” He said to himself, crumbling up the letter. 

He sat down on the couch and rubbed his face in frustration. He couldn't believe he’d been so blind to see who he wanted the whole time had also felt the same about him. He made an incredibly big mistake and now he had to face the consequences of it. 

*

Jack’s knee couldn’t stop bouncing his knee as he and Urban approached the Givenchy after party. They had attended the show just a few hours ago, but were invited to the dinner and after party. His team was able to get him and Urban seats at the last minute. He’d been in Cannes the last few days for work and performances so he hadn’t had a chance to see Luna. 

He thought he was going to see her when he was getting his fittings, but she was working on a different floor. Then when he sat next to her grandmother at the fashion show, he thought she was going to approach them, but she didn’t. She walked out with Matt and everyone else that helped with the collection. She waved and turned on her heel to go back backstage. He hoped to see her at the dinner but she spent the whole time showing off her grandmother. He had low expectations of seeing her in the club because she was a homebody. If anything he would make up some excuse to go to the Givenchy house the next day. 

Jack had been at the club for less than five minutes and he felt exhausted and drained. He excused himself and went down to the bar to order sparkling water with cranberry and pineapple juice. There were three bartenders at the bar. Two of which were hard working, getting drinks out as fast as they could while the one next to Jack was busy flirting with a red head. Jack rolled his eyes and sat back waiting until the crowd lessened. 

A hand smacked down on the bar close to the bartender. “There’s a million people waiting for their drinks. If you could get your dick out of your brain for three seconds and make them that would be fucking great.” 

Jack recognized that voice.

“Luna?” 

She turned over and her face paled. 

“Um, hi.” she said.

Jack frowned. “Hi? That’s all you have to say after I haven't heard from you in months?” 

“This is not the place.” Luna said, not looking at him. 

“Babe, I told you to wait for me.” someone said. 

A tall guy with dark brown skin wrapped his arm around Luna’s shoulders. He gave Jack a once over, unimpressed. 

“Dominic, relax. I know him.” Luna shrugged her arm off him. 

“Oh than fuck, I used up my straight voice with Vivi.” Dominic said in a more salacious voice. He nodded his head at Jack. “So who’s this?”

“An old friend from Louisville.” she answered vaguely. 

“Right.” Jack’s jaw clenched. 

Without another word he got up and went back to Urban, who was with a group of models that hung to his every word. 

“Um wow, you were rude. What’s the drama there? Clearly y’all weren’t just friends.” Dominic prodded. 

Luna pretended she didn’t hear him and her eyes followed Jack. He waved to a few women who called his name as he went up the steps to the VIP section. He leaned over to Urban and whispered in his ear. They bro hugged and Jack was going back down the steps. 

“Tell Vivi, I’m not feeling well and called an Uber.” she told Dominic. 

She didn’t wait for a response. She gave him a side hug and trailed after Jack. 

“Jack, wait!” she yelled when they were outside. 

He turned around. “What, Luna?” he snapped.

“I’m sorry.” she said quietly. 

“For what exactly? For dismissing me to your friend like I’m nothing? Like this hasn’t been the worst few months of my life because you left?” He went off.

“YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND JACK!” She waved her arms angrily. “What was I supposed to do? Watch you live your life with your girlfriend while I still pine for you? I needed to be away for my own sake and sanity.” 

“We broke up.” Jack revealed. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“If I had known sooner that I had a chance I would have acted on it, Luna.” 

Before she could ask him what he meant, he captured her lips with his. The kiss was slow like a test in the waters. Lust quickly took over as their kiss intensified. He held her in place with his other arm as his lips dominated her. Luna whimpered into his mouth when Jack deepened the kiss. They pulled away, breathless, Luna realized they somehow ended up back at Jack’s hotel suite. 

“I fucking love you, Luna.” Jack murmured against her lips.

“I love you too, Jack.” She smiled.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that.”  

“Me too.” 

With that Luna pulled Jack into another deep kiss. Without breaking their kiss, he grabbed the back of her thighs and picked her up. He carried her down the hall to his room. Jack tossed Luna on the bed and slipped off his jacket and kicked off his shoes. Luna reached over and unzipped her leather calf length boots, a birthday present from Jack when he first earned his first big royalties check, and placed them on the floor. 

He crawled on top of her and gently pulled her chin, bringing her lips to his. One of her hands found its way to Jack’s curls while the other dug its nails onto his back. She moaned out into his mouth, feeling his hips rut against her core. She shifted around so her legs were more open for him to move more comfortably. They continued to kiss as their hips kept moving in sync with each other.

“Wait.” she pushed him off her.

“Are we moving too fast? I’m sorry–”

“No, I have to check in with my grandma so she doesn’t think I got kidnapped like in that one Liam Neeson movie.” 

She went to the living room part of his suite where they discarded their jackets and her bag. She quickly sent her grandmother a text that she was catching up with Jack and that she won’t be home until the morning. Abuela replied instantly with a ‘finally’ and a ‘use condoms’. She rolled her eyes and joined Jack in bed. 

Jack gave her a chaste kiss on the lips and returned to kissing down to her chest. He pushed up her dress until it was off of her, revealing her breasts to him. He tweaked one of her nipples while he nipped and sucked her other breast. Satisfied with the love bites on her chest, he kissed down her stomach to the band of her panties. 

Luna cleared her throat making him look up at her. “You’re clean right? I don’t have condoms, but I’m on the IUD.” she asked. 

“Yeah, I haven’t been with anyone since Kathryn.”

After their break up, he got tested and came out clean.

“Okay cool.” Luna nodded. 

Jack sat back on his knees and pushed her legs open. Her arousal glistened through the lace of her panties. Luna lifted her hips, so he could remove her panties. He slowly pulled them off and tossed them to the side then climbed back in bed. He licked his lips and placed her legs over his shoulders. 

Shamelessly, he spit on her clit and sucked it, making her moan. Then he wiggled his tongue at her entrance. He moaned out at her taste. It was taking everything in him not to ravish her. He took his time with her, savoring her. Minutes passed when he finally slid his middle and ring finger in her. She gasped at his touch. Her hands tangled in his hair pulling it for relief.

“Fuck!” She moaned out. He sped up his fingers then he slipped them out of her and rubbed her clit, bringing her to her climax. 

“Jack!” She repeated his name over and over as she came. Jack licked her release and laid back next to her. Luna rolled over and placed her leg over his waist. 

“I love you.” She said softly. She stretched over to kiss him. 

“I love you too, Luna.” he mumbled against her lips.

Jack pushed her hips so she was directly on top of his crotch. They kissed for what seemed like hours. Teasing touches here and there, only to end up wrapped up in each other’s arms. Jack was hugging her back while Luna placed her hands on his chest. She slowly moved her hips against him. 

“I always knew our first time would be with you on top.” Jack commentted. 

“You’re so fucking corny.” Luna laughed, covering her mouth. 

Jack pulled her hand away and sat up so he could kiss her properly. Luna reached between them and slowly stroked Jack. Then she lifted her hips, lining herself over his cock. She slowly slid all the way down his length. She moaned out at how good Jack felt inside her. She rocked her hips against him, getting used to him. She slowly bounced herself up and down while continuing to rock her hips against his. He sat up and brought her closer to him. Luna’s arms tightened around his neck. Jack bucked his hips upwards to meet her thrusts and she let out a soft moan.

“Feel so good, Jack.” she whimpered.. 

Her orgasm came out of nowhere. She clung to Jack as she continued to ride him. He still kept thrusting into her through her orgasm. But he slowed down, letting her come back from orgasm only to take her once more. 

“Want you to finish in my mouth, Jack.” Luna said, pushing back his sweaty curls. 

“Yeah, whatever you say.” 

Luna playfully rolled her eyes and shifted her body so she laid horizontally. She spit on his length and slowly jerked him off with both hands. She slipped him as far as she could take him. He let out an incoherent sound until she reached the back of her throat. She did it a few more times, egging him on. 

She pulled away, with a trail of saliva spilling from the corner of her mouth, and kissed down his length. Luna slowly bobbed her head up and down his length, getting her mouth used to him. She took him a little deeper each time. One of his hands gripped the back of her head, keeping her in place as he thrusted into her mouth. Luna let out soft moans. Her hands gripped his legs, nails digging into his thighs. She continued to stroke him as he came, taking all of his release. She cleaned him up and cuddled next to him.

“So we did that…” Luna trailed off after a few moments of silence.

Jack pushed himself up against the headboard. “Do you regret it?” 

“Do you?” She asked.

“Fuck no.” 

“Okay, good.” She giggled. The bed sheet covering Jack’s waist caught her attention. There was a large tent shape formed. “Already? It wasn’t even five minutes.”

“My dick can’t help that you’re finally naked with me and not a figment of my imagination.” 

“I guess we should do something about that.”

“We should.” 

Jack gently pushed her back on the bed. They slowly kissed, having all the time of the world. Unbeknownst to them was that Urban had entered his suite and was going to give Jack some information about Luna that he acquired. He unlocked the door separating his suite and Jack’s. 

“Yo, you better buy me some blunts with all this shit I have for you– ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” Urban yelled, pulling off his soundproof headphones. 

Jack covered Luna before Urban could get a look of her face. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“What the fuck? That’s all you have to say? Here I thought my best friend was fucking heartbroken but you’re out here getting his dick wet. I went out of my way to get you some info on Luna.”

“Hi Urb.” Luna sat up, covering her chest. 

Urban took in the scene in front of him. “Nevermind. I’ll let y’all continue. Pardon me for interrupting.” 

He put on his headphones and went back to his suite. 

“Sorry.” Jack mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it. Nothing could ever embarrass me after my grandparents walked in on me and my date for junior prom.” she said. 

“True and I didn’t get the condom stuck in your pussy like bitch ass Tristian.” Jack said.

“I completely forgot my date’s name. How do you remember?” 

“I had to keep tabs on my competition.” He shrugged. “And I won.” 

“Is that so?” She arched an eyebrow.

“You’re naked with me in Paris. I call that a win.” 

Taglist: @heavyhitterheaux @cherry4everrr ​ @carma-fanficaddict ​ @youngharleezy @youngharleezyxo ​ @babyharleezy ​ @that-90s-girllll ​ @alinaharlow @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @webinurcloset @gassyandsassy1 @jackharloww @awhore4moree @noescapricho-essentimiento @neon-lights-and-glitter @purecinnamonextract @whywontyoulovemecami @camificrecs @itsyagirljaz @w1ldthoughts @vanwritesfan-fiction @xxkoolkatxx

#jack harlow #jack harlow angst #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow one shot #jack harlow fanfiction

[smokesandsonatas]

Theory and Analysis

The Legacy of the Shroud and Draconia Families: The Prodigy and the Miracle

I haven't posted anything in ages, but in the span of a day, I have caught up to everything happening in TWST. All I could say is -

Wow.

Should I miss or incorrectly put the lore, feel free to correct me.

Warning: Spoilers, long post, language, and crude humour.

Without further ado, let's get into the post. All credits belong to their owners.

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The Shroud clan

The Shrouds have been in existence for a really long time. Their ancestor was "appointed a Gatekeeper back in the age of gods and goddesses." Let's assume that was thousands of years ago. Due to this task of essentially keeping the balance in TWST World, Tartarus was built, and henceforth S.T.Y.X was 'formed' about 100 years ago.

Due to their long history, the Shrouds are rich, rivaling the Al-Asims in terms of wealth. According to Vil, they are a branch of Jupiter Enterprises. An influential conglomerate that essentially built Google Chrome, or maybe Facebook, and Amazon of TWST.

The Shrouds reside on the Island of Woe. It is not on any map, therefore it is completely hidden from the public due to the fact it is literally built under the sea.

For the secret organization, Lillia said that a legend goes like this, "When a wizard forgets themselves and succumbs to their own power, punishment from the Island of Woe shall befall them."

The Shrouds are tasked with such a heavy job that about a hundred years ago, they were cursed, preventing them from escaping their duties. This curse manifested in their flaming blue hair, burning off accumulated blot. But if there's no blot to burn, the curse instead eats their magical energy. That's why the Shrouds, especially Idia having inherited the curse from his father, must now be in constant close state of OB to survive.

Idia's grandmother, Aidne/Idone Shroud, is known to have this curse. Both her and her son, Mr. Shroud are using magical devices to combat it.

The Shroud Prodigy and Tragedy

Idia is a prodigy. Born a genius in the Island of Woe. As a child his intellect far surpasses the adult researchers at S.T.Y.X. With this impressive show of his potential, his fate is sealed: Idia will become the next head of the Shroud family.

Ortho's life is a tragedy. He was born, and then he died. Then he was reborn again as a humanoid robot that Idia created while in complete isolation for 2 years. Complete with the 'real' Ortho's memories, personality, and appearance.

This is Idia's way of coping with the guilt that consumes him. Blaming himself for his only brother's death.

Why wouldn't Mama and Papa Shroud do something about this?

I like to think that they did try to console Idia. From the looks of it, they do love their children equally. But they also have to grieve too. They also suffer the same guilt Idia feels because suddenly the portal that they're supposed to monitor as the Director and Chief Engineer of S.T.Y.X breaks open, resulting in the death of their younger son. [But I think Idia's unique magic has something to do with the incident.]

It is important to note that Mama and Papa Shroud treat 'Ortho' as their real child, not a replacement of their dead son. With the events ending in Ignihyde chapter, Ortho is on his way to becoming his own person.

Combining his brother's 'death', the responsibility of running S.T.Y.X in the future, the constant state of near OB just to stay alive, and the isolation made Idia the genius, foul-mouthed, introvert prodigy dorm leader of Ignihyde.

As of Diasomnia chapter, Papa and Mama Shroud, the Director and Chief Engineer of S.T.Y.X respectively, are trying to get in touch, or are now in touch, with Queen Maleficia, Malleus' grandmother.

The Draconia family

The Draconias are nocturnal fae, tracing back their long lineage to dragons. They all possibly have horns protruding from their heads. Their lifespans can go on for centuries. A Draconia will reach adulthood at the age of 1,000 years old. That lifespan is longer than the kind of fae like Lilia.

Simplified:

If Malleus reach 1,000 years old, he'll be only known as an adult Draconia, but for Lilia, 1,000 years is his whole lifespan.

In the current events of TWST, we only know 3 Draconias so far.

Queen Maleficia, Princess Mallenoire/Malenoa, and the only known male heir, Malleus.

Not much is known about them, except the current queen (has been for a long time) is Queen Malefecia, the grandmother. She adopted Lilia and Levan, the father of Malleus and Princess Malenoa's husband. The royalty in Briary Valley is complete with senators, dukes, royal guards, and is just basically a monarchy of faes.

The Draconias, and most fae creatures, reside in Briar Valley. There are forests that are pitch black, giving an advantage to nocturnal faes, like Lilia. It is also rich in magical minerals.

In Diasomnia chapter, Malleus put up a barrier of thorns that is going around or extending throughout Sage Island, essentially marking it as his domain, and everyone in this domain will remain asleep, dreaming. It is worth noting that Malleus is said to be one of the top strongest mages, as evidenced by this:

"S.T.Y.X. together with the Magical Force, and the Briar Valley’s royal family attempted to break into Malleus Draconia’s domain, but… "

"Neither physical nor magical attacks could make a dent."

"The thorns do not discriminate between humans and fae, and anyone attempting to enter just get sucked into the field."

Because he's a fae, he gets energy from his surroundings. Therefore if Malleus' keeps extending his barrier, he will get stronger. Heed that not even Queen Maleficia can get through the barrier her grandson had created. With this scenario, it effectively puts Malleus, a little bit stronger than her.

The Draconia Miracle

I contemplated saying the Draconian Miracle but either way is fine.

If we are to consider Malleus as a miracle manifest in itself, let's first look at the way he was born.

The prelude of Malleus' birth is chaos.

During or even before he emerged from his shell, Briar Valley is going through a fae-human war. Starting when the humans started populating and abusing the place. Note that their population started with only a small sailing ship, and throughout the years they multiplied.

Princess Mallenoire/Malenoa/Mallenoa is the mother of Malleus, and she, by far is the strongest defense of the land, as said by Lillia.

But before Malleus can even crack the shell, his mother is already gone. Going by the angst route, let's assume she died protecting her egg that houses her son.

Makes you wonder how brutal the fight must be to 'kill' a mother dragon protecting her only child.

Levan/Revern, a raven fae or a dragon duke in some sources, is his father. He is a diplomat of Briar Valley, therefore his task falls into making allies, not enemies.

Yet, he did not return.

It is presumed that he died in an ambush, or possibly has a new identity. If he is alive it is cruel for him to not come back to his unhatched son. I am not saying Crowley is Malleus' father but there's a chance that Crowley is related to the Draconias, in one way or another.

Now, why is Malleus considered a miracle?

Because he was born against all odds. His birth is a highly impossible event, yet it did happen.

Due to his parents' absence, this effectively made the hatching of Malleus uncertain. Dragon eggs can hatch within 2-3 years of laying if showered with love and cared for.

[ This part is taken from the accounts of Lilia's dream in the Diasomnia chapter, where Silver is also surprised by the huge gap of the war and the dragon heir's birth.]

Malleus' birth is delayed by 200 years, because he has no one to care for him. It is truly pitiful that even before his birth, Malleus is abandoned.

Why wouldn't Queen Maleficia love her unhatched grandson? Is her love and power not enough to hatch Malleus?

I bet she did, but she also has grieve the death of her only child. On top of that, she has to be strong because she's a queen of a country. Any sign of weakness can mean the humans threatening her or even one of the faes betraying them, putting her family and the nation in danger.

The thought of the Draconia bloodline ending with her likely filled her with depression. Also, Queen Maleficia is not Malleus birth mother, only his grandmother. So that is not enough for a dragon egg to hatch, since it needed the love from his birth parents. I like to think that this part is where Lilia, as his caretaker will come in. Lilia's loyalty to Draconias extended to Malleus, softening the heart of the war-torn general, enough that he had the sympathy to adopt a human child.

It took 200 long years for Malleus to emerge from his egg shell and when he did, Briar Valley celebrated his birth. Matter of fact, his birthday is a public holiday.

Defying the odds is another powerful instance why Malleus is born to be a king faes, the valley and the abyss.

The parallels between Idia (the prodigy) and Malleus (the miracle)

[Is it me or they both look good?!]

Both Malleus and Idia grew up in isolation.

Literally.

[Island of Woe and Briary Valley are two places in the middle of seven-knows-what. Anyway...!]

With Malleus as the only heir, and Idia as the first born, they both have huge responsibilities on their shoulders. We're talking about responsibilities scaling nations and the safety of huge populations.

Idia's childhood is tragic with the death of his brother. But we can argue that Malleus' childhood is tragic too, with the disappearance of his parents.

Malleus grew up isolated and protected in the castle. His only confidant for decades is Lilia, his caretaker. And even then, Malleus said that Lilia is prone to going away for long periods of time.

For Idia, his only companion for the 2 years he locked himself in his room is the prototype of Ortho that he's building.

Idia represents the uncanny future, and Malleus represents the eerie past.

Think of it this way, if you put Malleus in Island of Woe where everything is about technology, I bet he will say something about the importanc of the past and teleport back to his place.

If you put Idia in Briar Valley... man's not even going to survive the night. He will lament his poor WiFi connection.

They compliment each other well: One doesn't want to be approached and the other is unapproachable.

Both Idia and Malleus are some of the loneliest students in NRC. Idia doesn't have social cues, and Malleus... doesn't have good social cues either.

They're both so awkward when interacting with others it becomes endearing.

As awkward as they are, both are arrogant too. Every time Idia regards himself as the acting leader of S.T.Y.X and Malleus as the future king, sends a thrill or.pride to whoever can hear them. [Go forth children! Be the leaders of the TWST world.]

And they will be leaders. As heavy as the mantle of Shroud and Draconia is, Idia and Malleus will have no choose but to shoulder on. That's why I think the battle between (yuu), Idia along with NRC against Malleus will be tragically beautiful.

+++

Fun fact: Hades tried to ask Maleficent out in a date once, lol.

+++

There's a reason why all of a sudden the story of TWST started to become more serious in the Ignihyde chapter and just hit the fan in Diasomnia. Soon, were about to find out why.

Idia and Malleus are the complete opposite yet their existence compliments each other so well.

One is a keeper of the underworld, and the other the blessing of maleficence.

And then there's Yuu, trying to uncover the secrets of Twisted Wonderland.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #idia shroud #twst malleus #twst idia #ortho shroud #twst ortho #twisted wonderland analysis #twisted wonderland theory #diasomnia #ignihyde #mentions of #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #s h u #twst #disney twst

[unlikelyjapan]

s2e9 rewatch notes (part 1)

Omelette - I'm hoping I can pull through and finish this rewatch in its entirety before I leave on vacation. While the analysis is fun, the actual act of watching the show feels very masochistic vs. last season, which I must have watched a dozen times.

The-not-sexy-sex-scene: It's interesting that the credits start to roll on a black backdrop before we even get the blue-hued (read: frozen) sex scene, and its set to a song that was written about a death/funeral (The Day the World Went Away by NIN).

As a bit of context, Trent Reznor's grandmother (who raised him after his parents flaked out) died right before the release of The Fragile, and this song was thought to be written as a reflection of her funeral. I know they didn't include any lyrics in the scene (that would be too on-the-nose for a director that delights in subterfuge), but in no world is this a happy or lustful track - it's frail, wistful, and entirely about something (someone) that has been lost.

There's some laughter in there, if you squint, but it's mostly intense and needy glances replete with swinging chain for the feral audiences sake. The stark/open "little death" eyes at the end (as Claire is presumably sleeping ) punctuate the scene UNTIL....

.....Sydney is buttoning up her coat (i.e. getting frigging dressed) in the very next beat, frustration in her voice as she notices the stains on her whites (God, is this a sheets parallel?) .

This is hot on the trail of her getting undressed (revealing her 3 of swords tattoo) at the end of s2e7 as Carmy and Claire make out in the split montage, which is the only reason I'm thankful this was released as a binge series this year.

There's not much more to elaborate on here that hasn't been discussed in this brilliant analysis by @belassima- the classic "getting dressed after a sexual encounter" trope turned on its head. We don't see Claire again until friends & family, and this is wholly on purpose. I'm suing Christopher Storer for damages after the series finale.

Syd and her Dad have such an enviable synergy - but you can tell she's over leaning on him as her "person". He's checking in on her stomach (foreshadowing the dumpster scene) and acts as her lone hype man. "I don't know how you do what you do, but I am excited".

Emmanuel - "I never want you to feel like you have to make everything the thing."

a.k.a - "You know, there are other fish in the sea."

Sydney - "Why can't we put everything we have into everything that we can"

a.k.a - "I want to funnel everything into catching this one - this is a borrowed quote from my soulmate business partner."

Emmanuel - "Baby, if that's true, then why put so much pressure on this one?"

a.k.a - "What is the reason/what is so particularly special about this fresh hell you've been subjecting yourself to?"

Sydney - "Because.....I don't know if I could do another one"

Ok - more nuance is required here. According to Syd hivemind, the answers range from "Syd's been burned in a relationship/partnership before", "Syd also has Lupus", or purely "Syd has failed too many times and is scared". We still don't know enough about her past, but I tend to look at this through a strictly fearful/nihilistic prism - she feels like she can't take any more heartache (along with the physical and financial ramifications) from another crash-and-burn endeavor.

But Emmanuel's worried eyes tell a bigger story after she delivers this line, so.....I dunno! I hope S3 covers this understanding gap in a big way.

Strange Currencies playing overhead of the city, taking us to the ally where Carmy is having THE panic attack. I transcribed every image he cycles through while the song plays backwards:

*Sex scene of Carmy staring down expressionless at Claire in bed, Claire leaning down to kiss Carmy.

*An old picture of Claire staring straight ahead, a Sweet 16 birthday picture of her sticking out her tongue in a tiara, one of Carmy's drawing of her with glasses from class. Cut to a flash of Claires face with a wry smile in sepia lighting, followed by another one that is similar but almost taunting. These sepia images get creepier as the panic attack escalates, but also more focused.

*Another drawing of Claire smiling with glasses with Mikey's voice echoing in the background "the motherfucking glasses came off!"

*Another old picture of Claire smiling without glasses, followed by another.

*Mikey and Richie and another "the motherfucking glasses came off!" soundbite.

*Drawing of Claire in glasses again for a brief flash, followed by Carmy and Claires first kiss at The Bear.

*"Carm, this is a good thing" with Stevie, as Carmy crumples to the ground in the ally.

*Claire up-close in sepia sort of half-wistful/half-scruitinizing Carmy

*Donna screaming "fuck you" and Mikey braying at the dinner table, Lee reacting, a dish smashing.

*Sepia Claire turning and smiling to the camera.

*More braying and fuck-you's from Mikey and Lee

*Just Claire's eyes in Sepia-mode, staring across at him with a joker-esque smile as the braying and swearing and fighting continues.

*Donna screaming "are you motherfuckers okay!?"

*The drawings of The Bear in Mikey's hands, him looking up affectionately at Carmy.

*Donna slapping Carmy - Carmy looks up in the ally as if something has slapped him out of it.

Donna and Mikey summon Sydney after this - Mikey with the acknowledgment of his dream (The Bear) and an ounce of brutality from Donna (as in: how dare you care about me, Carmen). These two figures, engines of chaos and trauma, steer him towards Sydney's first words to him.

"Hi, Hello..."

*Strange currencies - "These words* You were the most excellent CDC at the most excellent restaurant in the entire United States of America. What are you doing here I guess?" *you will be mine. You will be mine all the time*

I....I don't understand how the panic attack is ambiguous for people off of this site. I don't understand why it's not noted in reviews and think pieces. I don't understand why otherwise smart people put forth simplistic narratives like "Carmen just needs to make peace with his family" or "he fumbled Claire, his shot at happiness." I just don't understand.

Sydney passing Verdana "Now fool might be my middle name" as she stares down at the sign saying they will be permanently closed May 1st - along with the instrumentals, a clock ticks in the background. A flash of Nilah's face is interspersed, smiling back at her. "But I'd be foolish not to say..."

If this is an ellipse to a "Carmy loves Syd, Syd is fully gay" moment in later seasons, I'll be pretty disappointed since that would be a too-easy way to shut things down.

On first viewing, I took it as "Syd sees herself in Nilah" - she aspires to be her, Nilah gave her forewarning about partnerships that aren't official, Nilah was empowered, optimistic, and in control....and Nilah has not succeeded, highlighting Sydney's anxieties about failure at the same time Carmy is cycling through his own debris.

But the song lyrics are ambiguous, and everything is on purpose, and god damn I hate what fan theories have done to my mind.

Anyone catch that on the F&F menu listed on the whiteboard (as Natalie enters to sit with Carmy) the course of Seven Fishes is followed by the Bolognese? The feast was followed by the meal he prepared for Claire being served at friends and family? Yeah, I did.

The mother father painting - I feel like everyone was riffing on this during the earlier part of the week. The absolution of the mother due to the absent father. Syd being the mother (present) and Carmy being the father (absent). Donna (alive) vs. Mikey (dead). The idea of family haunting the dining room. The idea that this painting in the restaurant supplants what is trying to be built (found family). I suppose the parallels are endless here.

It's also just a truly shitty painting, a gauche reminder of Carmy's absence/inattentiveness.

"What exactly is a ServSafe certificate"?

Carmy was most definitely deflecting, he's a well-venerated chef. There are moments of inconsistency in the show that I let slide (giardiniera a la minute? bitch please) but there had to be a reason for this - his fatigue, his guilt, his inattentiveness reaching a breaking point.

Once he says "I'm fine on mom" Natalie sees it all coming to a head.

Sydney stickering her little Coach K vision board as she arrives for her shift. I just realized she doesn't really start paying attention to the book (a dorky 'go get 'em' gift from her Dad) until Carmy ditches her at Kasama. Coach K exists in the leadership void left by Carmy - it seems so sad to watch her pre-game by bejeweling a picture of a middle-aged man, but that sad pseudo-prayer card is the closest thing she's got to a north star right now.

Also, she's been fixated on and extolling the virtues of Coach K to Carmy all season and is met with....complete incuriosity, I guess? He never prods further, even when he sees her making this dinky thing for her station. It's almost like he knows, on a subconscious level, that this guy is supplanting him as Syd's guide.

But it's also her finding her own voice through advanced mentorship, which is great.

Carmy pointing at those aforementioned stains, Syd undressing in front of him, Carmy making plans to dress her again, them mutually deciding to dress in matching clothes until service. I cannot guys, I cannot.

Carmy getting spit-roasted for his deflection from Nat & Syd ("I know you just missed him *eyeroll*" "Do you have a phone these days?") - I feel like he's so under fire/exposed that he doesn't even recognize of the gravitas of the "I need your focus like you need mine" comment at first.

"What's your relationship with your mom like?" This scene has been discussed to death on here, I don't really have any new insights as it relates to Carmy/Syd and their maternal links or timing. I think the part that hasn't been explored much is Carmy's frustration with Nat which is thinly veiled as concern.

We saw in Fishes that Mikey and Carmy (and Donna) blame Nat for provoking bad behavior with her concern and neediness. Carmy says "she's expecting a miracle" like she's the sole sibling that enabled their mother. By way of Donna's disease and (I presume) unwillingness to seek help, the Berzatto kids really only had two options - enable by pacifying, or GTFO.

Mikey could be as atrocious as Donna. Donna is atrocious. Carmy played soothe-sayer and then left at 18. Natalie tries to cultivate some sense of family - the same family Carmy pays homage to via his restaurant, his menu, his girlfriend, Richie, his endless self-flagellation - but is resented for her own wayward attempts, even though they're very explicit expressions of love (sometimes) and longing (always). There's some really gnarly projection happening there that I expect will rear its head more in S3 between the two of them.

Cue Carmy being a douche to New Noise (although I love that little moment where he cock-blocks Connor, the new chef, and Tina smiles to herself a little).

Tina's been working tirelessly alongside Sydney and asks "Carmen, do you even have a phone?" as Syd tells him the contractor for the shelving called him eleventy-thousand times. There is a lot of emasculation happening on his own restaurant floor (formerly The Beef, the temple of gross masculinity) between the trifecta of Syd/Nat/Tina this episode, and it's only ratcheting up the defensiveness - his excuses and deflections fall flat, but he's not listening or learning yet.

Marcus' dessert check, (with Syd and Carmen looking like a panel of matchy-matchy top chef judges on the other side of the table):

Sydney is looking at Carmy with affection as Marcus receives a package from Denmark (whereas Carmen doesn't even react) - it's the second time she's looked at him like that in the conversation (the first being "workshopping the name") but it's been a long while since she's projected admiration his way. She sees how much he's done for Marcus in cultivating the whole customized Copenhagen experience for him, she sees his service, she sees her values humbly and quietly executed by him.

The Michael 😭 followed by the silence and "You can throw down, huh?" - what a perfect moment of TV.

I'm pausing here for tonight before my grammar falls apart (if it hasn't already), I'll unpack the rest tomorrow.

#the bear fx #the bear season 2 #the bear spoilers #the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy x sydney #syd x carmy #marcus the bear #natalie berzatto #claire the bear #mikey berzatto #carmy berzatto

[thebetawolfgirl]

The Chanel Ribbon part 3 (Final Part!)

Pairing: Timmy/Reader

Word count: 2,535

Summary: The whole story from Timmy’s POV

Warnings: Serious smut!

A/N: The final part. I wanted to do one from Timmy’s POV!

The Chanel Ribbon pt 3

Timothée had been in love with y/n since the day he saw her across the room at an after party and she was asked to sing by the host. She had a voice like an angel, no angels would sound like cats being strangled to death compared to his y/n. She was beautiful, smart and so kind and compassionate towards others, he had never met anyone like her before. Sure he had been with lovely women but they were nothing next to y/n.

They went on a few dates and she was careful with him at first because she told him she had been hurt in the past and used for her status, Timothée promised to spend the entire time they spent together proving that he wasn’t like those other animals that broke her heart.

They had been dating since the beginning of 2019 and she had started to trust him before long and let him into her heart and he protected her and her heart like a precious jewel. They went steady during 2021 after the pandemic started to calm down a bit and they could see each other more. That whole year during lockdown was the most hardest thing he had ever done. He missed her so much and it was like he had lost a limb.

When his grandmother died and she actually flew out to London to be with him from the other side of the world he knew, he knew she was it for him. She was the woman he would spend the rest of his life with and start a family with some day. So he spent that full year having a designer custom design an engagement ring for him then he spent another six months planning the perfect proposal.

The day he was talking to the greatest Hollywood director of all time he couldn’t stop thinking about y/n. After the interview Mr Scorsese asked him if he was alright. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve just been thinking about my girlfriend y/n, I’m just wondering what she’s doing right now, if she’s eaten yet. She’s appearing on Fallon tonight to promote her new album and I just want to text her and wish her good luck and-

‘Just to hear her voice’ The old man finished his sentence with a knowing look and a smile.

Timothée nodded smiling chuckling and looking down. ‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Is this young lady a musician did you say?’

Timothée nodded

‘Y/n y/l/n?’

Again, Timothée nodded his eyes sparkling.

‘Don’t ever let a love like that go’

Timothée nodded ‘Never, Sir never!’

Later on at the private Chanel dinner Timothée couldn’t keep his mind off y/n, his friend Kid Kudi gave him a Red Bull to help calm his nerves but it only made him more jittery and a bit giddy. He decided he couldn’t wait for the perfect moment to propose, he wanted y/n to be his fiancée NOW. So with his mind spinning from the Red Bull he snuck out the back door and hurried down the street to the few blocks to the studio that hosted the Fallon Show. He was a native New Yorker so he took all the backstreets and alleyways to get there quicker. He arrived at the studio and asked one of the people backstage he had to see y/n y/l/n immediately.

They had already been seen out together but just as ‘Friends’ no one knew they were a steady couple.

The staff member patched through to the host Jimmy Fallon saying Timothée Chalamet was here to see y/n, Timothée was getting more and more jittery and hyper so by the time he walked on set to a confused y/n and Jimmy he was practically a rambling mess, he didn’t even notice the large audience watching them both.

‘Timmy, what’s going on? Is everything ok?’ She had turned her mic off which he was grateful for. Because he really giddy now.

‘I needed to see you and speak with you’ he muttered talking quickly fiddling with his necklace. Oh God she was wearing the Chanel ribbon around her hair from the gift bag he bought her.

No Timmy concentrate you’re here for a reason, Timothée’s inner monologue began in his head as she pulled them behind the curtain excusing them to Jimmy and the audience that he just noticed.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry I had this all planned out for months and it was going to be perfect but I couldn’t wait any longer and now I feel stupid and- there’s an very large audience out there!!’ He squealed in a hushed tone glad he refused a mic his eyes going wide.

He was still gaping at the audience from their hiding place behind the curtain when he felt her hands on either side of his face and he nearly melted right there at her touch and met her eyes and her beautiful smile.

‘My answer is yes, but you will do this the way you planned because I INSIST you have YOUR moment with this. And you’re not proposing to me backstage at the Jimmy Fallon Show’ She giggled and he looked at her ribbon and touched it gently unable to believe she actually wore the ribbon as well as the bracelet that was in the bag. He moved slightly towards her lips to kiss her while attempting to remove the ribbon, he was in such a daze being around her he hadn’t noticed she was pushing him back until he hit the wall knocking him out of his daze and grabbed his wrist before removing the ribbon herself.

He watched her intently as she began to tie the ribbon around his wrist tightly whispering ‘Everyone saw me wearing this ribbon in my hair tonight, even Jimmy commented on it.’

His breathing hissed as she tied it tightly around his wrist below his pulse point and he smiled slightly at what she was doing. ‘Now I will return to the stage without it, and you will return to your dinner and be seen leaving the hotel wearing my Chanel Ribbon on your wrist.’

She finished tying the ribbon into a perfect bow her head bowed over his arm before raising her head and laying it on his shoulder smiling and looking at him. He nodded smiling back before pressing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. She raised her head and deepened the kiss and he held her waist before she pulled away completely. ‘The aftermath should be fun.’

They both smiled at each other and went their separate ways. Him back to the party and her to her interview.

When the dinner was over he went outside to meet his fans and sign autographs and everyone commented on his new accessory and how they also saw a certain musician wearing an identical ribbon in her hair. He just smiled and bid his fans goodnight and drove home.

The next morning he woke up to the smell of food and the sound of his phone blowing up, he smiled stretching and reaching for his phone and looked at all the comments.

*Timotheè Chalamet seen wearing a Chanel Ribbon around his wrist he didn’t have when arriving at the Chanel dinner.*

*Y/n Y/l/n was seen wearing an identical ribbon on the Tonight Show but wasn’t wearing it when she returned onstage after Timothée Chalamet came to see her halfway through the interview*

The gossip columns were funny and the fans on both sides were going crazy. Timmy put his phone down again and went towards the amazing smell of breakfast being cooked by his beloved. Once he calmed down last night he decided he would stick to the original plan for his proposal to y/n. Even though he couldn’t wait he wanted it to be absolutely perfect for her. She deserved the world and so much more.

He found her standing in front of the cooker looking through her phone smiling at the screen while the food was cooking. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind pressing chaste kisses along her shoulder. ‘Good morning, something smells good.’

She smiled back at him tilting her head slightly toward him. ‘The breakfast or the gossip?’

Over the coming days and weeks they both shared the ribbon between them and found new ways to have it on their person. Timmy would wear it around his wrist, on his car keychain and even on his backpack if he had it with him. Y/n would wear it in her hair, around her wrist, she even wore it as a choker when out with friends one night. That got him excited when he saw the photos online.

After he used it to tie her to the headboard of their king size bed, he wondered how she would use it for her turn tonight.

He came home early after a long meeting with his management, exhausted and weary. His new PR Team were the most boring people he had ever had the displeasure of being in the same room as. They had put him with Kylie Jenner for a PR thing, they actually thought he would think this a genius idea. What was he going to talk to her about? He didn’t know anything about what it was she did.

All he wanted now was to lay in his beloved’s arms and hear about her day.

He opened the door and was surprised to see the entire house bathed in candlelight.

‘Oh.’ He whispered looking around and closing the door behind and walking further into the house. ‘Y/n? Are you here?’ He heard a noise behind him and went to turn but gentle hands stopped him. Before he could speak he heard her soft voice at his ear ‘Welcome home my love.’ She began rubbing his shoulders massaging them. He sighed and let his eyes close and his head fall back when she took his hand leading him into the bedroom. ‘I have a surprise for you’

Thankfully the candles were tea light candles so they would go out themselves once the wax was gone,

He wrapped his arms around her waist as he followed her to their bedroom which was all in darkness. She gently guided him towards the bed and began undressing him, when he tried to help she moved his hands back to her waist and whispered against his lips ‘No, tonight I take care of you’ his breathing hitched as she reached under his sweater to remove it and her fingers brushed his skin. The room was still pitch black with the door shut and he could only see her eyes sparkling in the dim light from the window. She removed his sweater then his jeans before pushing him gently back onto the bed he backed up towards the pillows as she crawled over him kissing every inch of him all the way until their eyes met and they were level with each other. He could just make out her smiling at him before she kissed him again then moving along his jawline down to his neck. He moved to lay his hands on her waist when she took his arms and rested them above his head near the headboard where he felt the satin of their ribbon.

He smirked in the darkness and didn’t resist keeping his arms above his head and waited patiently as she restrained him to the headboard. Once she was done, she moved back down and kissed him again before moving away from him and off the bed completely. He groaned at the loss of contact until he saw her turning on the fairy lights around the room to give them some light, he could see now in the dim light she was wearing his favourite dress he bought her. It was a simple green dress he picked out for her when he was going through some financial stuff and he couldn’t afford to buy her a fancy dress. He couldn’t believe she kept it after all these years.

He watched her undress slowly in front of him his boxers getting tighter on him, when she crawled back to him until she was on top of him. She leaned down and kissed him again her long hair falling around them like a curtain and started grinding her hips against his. He struggled against the ribbon, feeling the satin rubbing against his skin and kissed her back more feverishly. She broke the kiss and moved back to remove both their constricting underwear before coming back to kiss him and lowering herself down onto him until he bottomed out inside her. He groaned against her mouth and started moving his hips against her to tell her she could move. She held on to his shoulders as she began to ride him. He felt her open her mouth against his and he deepened the kiss meeting her thrusts with his hips. He wanted to hold onto her but he was still tied to the bed with the ribbon and he didn’t want to rip it. Although if the bed continued to rock like it was doing the knots keeping the ribbon attached to the headboard would come loose on it’s own. Y/n broke the kiss to breath and they both buried their face in the other’s neck as she took hold of his tied hands and tangled their fingers together.

Timmy whispered breathlessly into her ear ‘Untie me I need to hold onto you my love’

She made quick work of the ribbon and freed his wrists, and he pushed them both to sit up and rammed his hips upwards repeatedly. He heard her gasp and grip his shoulders leaving nail marks on his skin before grabbing fistfuls of his messy hair as he dragged his fingers up and down her back and buried his face in her neck nipping and kissing the skin there and leaving marks. ‘I’m nearly there, love. Come with me’ he gasped in to her ear panting hard when they both came and all he were fireworks behind his kids and he could hear her moaning and convulsing against him. He fell backwards pulling her with him drenched in sweat feeling the bedsheets tangled around their waists and legs.

He could feel both their heartbeats against his chest and he smiled trying to catch his breath as he looked down at her as her eyes were fluttering open and shut. He pushed her hair back from her eyes watching her smiling at him.

‘Love you’ He whispers against her temple before he reaches for the small remote and turns off the fairy lights and sees his wrists ‘Now YOU can explain to MY mother’

She smiles sleepily ‘I’ll tell her you were being naughty’

He looks down at her in shock before chuckling softly ‘Go to sleep’

He got comfy pulling her closer against his side placing a chaste kiss to her lips and closing his eyes with a final thought in his mind.

Yes, she’s definitely the one for me.

@sufferingstarlight

@lixzey

@kteezy997

@gatoenlaciudad

#lil timmy tim #timothèe chalamet #timothée hal chalamet #timothee icons #The Chanel Ribbon #timmy x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee chalamet smut #smut

[sirianasims]

We had dinner at the food stall behind the gallery, talking about everything and nothing. Paul asked about my costumes and I showed him some of my cosplays and even a few original designs on my phone. He could name every single character I’d done, and I was quite thrilled to discover that he was just as much of a geek as I was. I don’t know why I had expected otherwise, considering the kind of roles he played.

He told me he’d loved comics and superheroes since he was a child, so when the casting call for a live-action Llama Man series went out he had jumped at the chance even though he knew the risk.

And he’d been right. By the time the series ended, he was too established as Llama Man and casting directors were passing him over for more serious roles.

He didn’t seem to mind that much though. He said that being a lead actor was hard work and he much preferred smaller roles where he could have some more creative input. These days, he mostly worked on Llama Man: The Animated Series and a few other voice acting gigs.

After the gallery closed, we found ourselves on a bench outside. The night was warm. I didn’t feel like going back to my apartment yet, and Paul didn’t seem to be in any hurry either.

“Finally, the director told me that if I didn’t get it together, he was going to replace me with an actual llama next season. So, obviously I had to bring a llama for the launch party. He did not appreciate the gesture. Turns out very few llamas are house-trained.”

Our laughter echoed slightly in the empty plaza.

“You know, you remind me a little of my grandfather.”

“Ouch. You wound me. I’m not even forty, you know.”

“No, I mean, he was an actor as well. Conrad Richards. He loved pranks like that too.”

“Conrad Richards was your grandfather?”

“Well, he married my grandmother, but he was always grandpa Conrad to me.”

“That’s amazing. I was a big fan of his, actually. I liked how he always seemed to have fun with it, not like those actors who take themselves too seriously.”

“Yeah, he never took anything seriously. In every memory I have of him, he’s laughing.” My voice wavered slightly. “Sorry, I still miss him a lot.”

“Understandable.”

Paul took my hand.

“I wish I could tell you that it gets easier, but the truth is, it doesn’t. You just get better at carrying the pain.”

He looked away, seemingly lost in thought.

“When my father died, my mother told me that grief is just love that no longer has a home. It has nowhere to go. So, what you need to do is give it a new home. Surround yourself with friends and family. Love the ones you have left even harder. It doesn’t make the grief go away, but they will help you carry it.”

He cleared his throat and gave my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. I immediately missed the warmth.

“Thank you, Paul. I mean it.”

“You’re welcome. Julia.”

We sat in silence for a moment. Then, he looked at his watch and smiled at me, back to his cheerful self.

“Sadly, as much as I’d love to, we can’t sit here and chat all night. I have to catch a flight back to the Valley in the morning. So unless you feel like walking me to my hotel to make sure I don’t get lost, we should probably part ways.”

“Sure. Where’s your hotel, then?”

He hesitated, his eyes searching my face.

“ZenView Heights. But -“

I leapt to my feet. “It’s this way.”

Paul grabbed my wrist and looked at me with a serious expression.

“Julia, it was a joke. And that’s way too far to walk. Are you really sure about coming back to my hotel?”

I tried to listen for that little voice in my head, the one that was supposed to warn me when I was about to do something stupid, but there was only silence. 

And Paul.

I nodded, slightly surprised at myself. Paul sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t even know what I’m doing any more,” he muttered as we walked to the street to find a taxi.

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen5 #julia duchelli #paul romeo #cw: grief #my sincerest apologies to all you Conrad fans out there

[iambutmortal]

@elucienweekofficial Day 1: Mates

Summary: When Elain signs the divorce papers she’s sure she’s done with Lucien Vanserra. Until they’re offered the chance to recreate their honeymoon as a part of her job. For free. But reliving all those memories with Lucien proves leaving may be more difficult than she thought.

Word Count: 3k

Authors Note: I would like to thank @foreverinelysian for the amazing prompt and also apologize for holding onto it for a year (sorry @sjmkinkmeme). Also, yes, I did steal the opening scene from Asylum of the Daleks but in my defense that was my 12 year old sexual awakening so allowances must be made.

Read on Ao3

It took everything Elain had not to blow the strand of hair out of her mouth. The fan was pointed directly at her face, whipping her hair back dramatically. Or at least she hooped it looked dramatic, and not like she’d been caught by a cyclone. Because that would not make the magazine editors, or her manager, happy.

And with her luck would probably result in her ending up as a Facebook meme. She could picture the caption me trying to model but the world says no. The grandmothers of the world would be in stitches.

But the photographer seemed happy, kept yelling how the shot was perfect and stunning and you’re amazing darling so Elain was pretty sure it was dramatically.

“Break,” shouted the creative director, already leaning over the photographer’s camera to peer at the camera screen.

Elain resisted the urge to massage her cheeks, aching from the sultry, but not too sultry, smile she’d been forcing herself to hold for the better part of  an hour. She was sure there were thousands of pictures at this point, all with her at a slightly different angle, chin up a fraction, down an inch, to the left a hair, all in service of getting one perfect picture the perfume makeup company could slap up on billboards to advertise their new blush.

She felt bad for anyone who actually fell for it, since half the pan had been spread across her face in an effort to make some color appear, and whatever the final result was would still need digital enhancement. Even the makeup artist hadn’t been able to control her laughter at the attempt, shaking her head. “Guess I won’t be adding this to my kit.”

But a job was a job, and Elain needed the work to pay the bills. Bills that were suddenly a lot higher.

No, Elan scolded herself. She wasn’t allowed to think about it at work. That was the rule she’d had for herself two months ago when she’d had to lock herself in the bathroom to cry during a shoot. Despite her attempts to blot the smeared mascara away with toilet paper, the make up artist had been livid. Elain had only been spared by the fact that the photographer had liked it. Thought it was edgy and cool for whatever bland perfume they were selling to middle age house wives.

“Ma’am,” said one of the PAs on set, appearing at her elbow. PAs had a nasty habit of doing that, sliding behind her before she could notice, and nearly scaring her half to death.

“Yes,” Elain asked, pasting a pleasant smile on her face. Her cheeks barked in protest. But she was not going to be known as the model who was hard to work with.

“Your husband is here.”

In spite of herself, Elain couldn’t hide her glare. “I don’t have a husband.”

The PA glanced down at his clipboard, searching for the note he’d scribbled there. “It says here—”

“It’s fine,” Elain said, slipping past him and towards the room they’d turned into a makeshift dressing space. The company had rented an old house for the natural lighting and Victorian chandeliers, and they’d used the front parlor as a space to dump makeup and accessories. “I’ll go talk to him.”

She brushed past the curtain and there he was.

Lucien Vanserra. Her husband, at least on paper.

He looked good, and Elain hated herself for noticing. His red hair was shorter, only down to his shoulders, and slicked back. He’d made himself at home in one of the upholstered chairs scattered around the room, leaning back, one leg crossed over the other at the knee. It showed off the muscled thighs Elain was well acquainted with, hidden beneath dark was jeans. 

“You need to sign these,” Lucien announced, holding up a stack of papers.

Elain snatched them out of his hand.

The words at the top Decree of Divorce stood out in bolded font.

She turned around, grabbing the pen someone had left lying off the wardrobe-turned-desk. She scanned the text briefing, before jotting her signature down on each of the dotted lines.

“Just like that?” she asked, handing them back.

Lucien unfurled himself from the seat, all lanky limbs chorded with muscles, and took them back from her. 

“Just like that.”

He tucked them into the breast pocket of the black leather jacket he was wearing. Since when has he had that?

“Do you need a folder?” Elain asked, eyeing his chest suspiciously. “I doubt the judge wants wrinkled papers.”

Lucien snorted. “They’re fine. I know what I’m doing.”

“Of course you do,” Elain muttered. “Little Mr. Perfect.”

“What was that?” Lucien asked, taking a step closer to her.

“Nothing,” said Elain, smiling up to him with saccharine sweetness. “I just want to make sure after this I don’t have to see you again.”

“Don’t worry, beautiful, after this you never will again.”

Elain remembered a time when Lucien calling her beautiful would have her blushing fiercely, would no doubt result in him getting laid that night. Now it came out dripping with derision.

Elain rolled her eyes, pointing towards the curtain. “There’s the exit.”

“Nice knowing you,” Lucien said, striding toward the curtain and dipping under it.

Elain bit her lip as she watched his retreating back side. She ought to say something nicer, she thought. Before he was gone from her life forever, surely.

“Wait,” she called out after a long moment. But Lucien was already gone.

A part of Elain sighed in relief. What was she going to do if he stayed, explain why he came back from work one day to all his stuff packed in bags on the porch?

She huffed a sigh, blowing one of the strands of hair that had fallen into her face out of her eyes.

It was fine. She was going to finish her job and then go home and eat an entire carton of Halo Top. Maybe two depending on how sad the Hallmark movie on that night made her feel. Nowhere near as good as the real thing, but quantity over quality.

Elain glanced in the mirror behind her, to check that none of her makeup had smudged and that her eyes were crystal clear, not glassy, before following her soon to be ex-husband out.

Only to find him standing in the entryway with her sister.

“Oh perfect, I was about to send Lucien in to find you,” Nesta said, looking up from the email she was furiously typing on her phone.

“Do you have another job?” Elain asked. Nesta, on top of being her overprotective sister, was also Elain’s modeling agent. And a very good one. One wall of Nesta’s office was dedicated to all the magazine covers her models had gotten, right behind the Birkin bag she’d gotten as a gift from Anna Wintor on its shelf of glory.

“One day I’ll have a wall of Vogue,” had always been Nesta’s promise to herself and, at twenty nine, she was already well on her way there.

“Only the best for you,” Nesta said, sliding her phone into the pocket of her cleanly pressed slacks and brushing a kiss across Elain’s cheek. “And Lucien gets to join you on this one.”

“Oh,” Elain said, any excitement she had rapidly deflating.

Because she hadn’t actually told her sister she was getting divorced. It made her the worst kind of coward, something she told herself at every family dinner when she and Lucien sat next to each other and pretended things were going well, but she couldn’t bear to do it. Couldn’t stand to see the crestfallen looks on Feyre and Nesta’s face, the confused horror on her father’s. She was supposed to be the one who succeeded, married the nice boy from down the road and had a nice family.

Never mind that down the road was in a multi-million dollar mansion near Beverly Hills.

And after Elain told her family, she’d have to face the paparazzi. She was moderately well known, enough to get an occasional “who wore it best” shoutout in People (she always won), and Lucien was the son of Hollywood's most beloved silver fox.

A silver fox who’d run away with the wife of the state governor three months ago and was desperately trying to rehabilitate his image in the eyes of the press before his next movie. The media was out for blood, and Helion’s beloved son divorcing his pretty little wife wasn’t what anyone needed right now.

So Elain and Lucien had an unspoken mutual agreement not to tell anyone. When they showed up to Feyre and Rhys’ Sunday night dinners, whoever got there first sat in their car until the other arrived and they could keep up the appearance of arriving together. They sat next to each other and made a good show of acting like they didn’t hate each other’s guts. And then, when it was over, they left without another word and Elain pretended it didn’t feel like her heart was being stabbed over and over.

“You know the company you and Lucien used to book your honeymoon?” Nesta asked, too focused on whatever gig she had planned to notice Elain’s dismay. “They’ve been asked to plan the Greek princess’ honeymoon, which means Cosmopolitan wants to run a profile. And since the Royal wedding hasn’t happened yet, they wanted to feature another famous couple they worked with, and that’s you and Lucien.”

Elain’s eyes darted over to Lucien to see his eyebrows were high enough to touch his hairline.

“You want me to take pictures for a magazine spread?” Lucien asked. “I do have work to do. Not to mention,” Lucien gestured at the left side of his face, and the scars that raked down it, standing in stark contrast to his golden brown skin. A reminder of the car crash he’d been in in high school. “This.”

Elain had to bite her tongue to keep from saying something. She’d always thought the scars only served to make Lucien look more handsome, gave him a slightly dangerous air that lured her in, something that she reminded him of frequently, but her comments always seemed to fall on deaf ears. But it wasn’t her place, not now.

Nesta gave Lucien a scathing look. “The shoot is planned for two weeks after the California state election, so I’m sure you’ll have some time to take a week long, all expense paid vacation to the Bahamas.”

“We honeymooned in the Dominican Republic,” Elain interrupted.

Nesta whipped out her phone and tapped on it rapidly for a few seconds. “Yes, there.”

Elain barely contained her eye roll. She was sure Nesta could point out both countries on a map, and rattle off at least two or three facts about their geopolitical status, but asking her to remember where Elain went for her honeymoon was a step too far for her when she was focused on work.

“And the magazine is well aware of what your face looks like. It’s been enough places for everyone to know,” Nesta finished with finality.

Elain scowled. “We can’t just uproot our lives. We have things to do, I  have things to do.” Namely buying the ugliest pink couch she could find to put in Lucien’s old office as one last fuck you.

“All expenses paid?” Lucien asked, speaking over her.

Nesta smiled dangerously. “Flight included.”

Lucien crossed his arms. The leather jacket pulled up at the motion, the cuffs tight around muscled forearms. “And all we have to do is take some magazine photos.”

“And do an interview,” Nesta added.

Somehow, Lucien managed to arch one brow even higher. “And they want me, son of a currently disgraced movie star.”

“And potential senatorial candidate,” Nesta added.

“Rumors,” Elain interrupted. “All just rumors.”

“Which are good in this line of work,” was Nesta’s counter.

“I’m in,” Lucien said.

“We’ll think about it,” Elain corrected, glaring over at Lucien. He smirked at her in challenge.

Nesta sighed, glancing between the two of them, at last picking up the tension. “I need an answer by tomorrow, they want to book flights.”

Elain squirmed under her sister’s stare. This was exactly what she didn’t want, any cracks showing in her picture perfect life before she was ready to sit everyone down with a carefully rehearsed speech. 

“Elain?” Nesta asked.

In response, she leaned slightly towards Lucien, who obligingly pulled up his sleeve to show her his watch, a thick silver one she’d given him for his last birthday. At least he hadn’t forgotten that trick, since Elain never had a watch or phone on her at work. “My ten minutes are up,” Elain said, glancing at the time. “Gotta run.”

“I need an answer,” Nesta called as Elain slid backwards, towards where the photographer and director were still leaning over the camera, arguing back and forth over some detail or other.

“I’ll text you,” Elain promised. She almost felt bad leaving Lucien with Nesta. Almost, but not quite.

-

“I don’t know what to do,” Elain said on the phone later that night. “It would be a whole spread, at least ten pages, and a cover story.”

“Which would be perfect for your career,” Vassa finished for her.

“But then I would have to—”

“Spend a week with Lucien.”

Elain sighed. Vassa and Jurian were the only two people outside of their lawyers who knew Elain and Lucien were separating. It was unavoidable, since Lucien was living in their guest room for the time being. Looking for his own place would raise too many questions, and staying in a hotel for weeks would be an invitation for bored paparazzi.

“What would you do,” Elain asked, taking a bite of her ice cream. She’d splurged on Haagen Dazs, rationalizing that the encounter with Nesta had more than justified it.

“I’m not the one getting an all expense paid vacation.”

“With your ex-husband.”

“Technically he’s still your husband until Monday,” Vassa laughed. Because the court closed early on Friday and Nesta’s appearance had taken up too much time for Lucien to drive over to the court house.

“Not helping,” Elain growled. “And why would Lucien even agree? He loves to poke at Nesta’s buttons.”

“It would be good for him too,” Vassa said. “Future state Senator gets a fluff magazine article about him and his beautiful wife.”

“It’s a rumor,” Elain insisted. “He hasn’t even nominated himself. And anyway, it’s going to look a lot worse when he has to come out and say we’re not together anymore.”

“First of all, you know it’s more than a rumor. No political analyst gets called into a meeting with the head of the DNC for nothing, and second just pretend you’re still married, you’ve already been doing it for six months.”

Elain suppressed her groan. Vassa made it clear at every possible opportunity how much she disapproved of Elain’s current course of action. A “Congrats of Getting Divorced, Coward” Edible Arrangement had shown up on her door the day she moved to start the paperwork, and it had only escalated from there.

Although Elain figured she should be glad Vassa would still talk to her instead of taking Lucien’s side completely. She was distressingly short on friends who weren’t her sisters and it would be so easy for Vassa to blame her when Elain still refused to explain what exactly had caused her to kick Lucien out. But Vassa had just sighed, crawled into the mountain of blankets Elain had made for herself, and said she knew Elain would talk to her when she was ready.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Elain had given an emphatic no and that had been that.

“Ugh,” Elain sighed, flopping back on the couch. “I don’t know.”

“You’ve said that about twelve times already,” Vassa sighed. “We’ve been on this call for two hours.”

“Then maybe you’re not being helpful enough.”

“I’m not helpful? Fine then,” Elain heard a rustling on the other side of the phone as Vassa started thumbing through her room. 

“Oh you don’t need to…” Elain protested weakly.

But the sounds of video game weapons were already buzzing in her ear.

“Lucien,” Vassa asked, her voice muffled as she pulled the phone away and put it on speaker. “What are your thoughts on Nesta’s offer?”

There was a long, pregnant pause on the other side of the line.

“I’m in if Elain is.”

“Thank you,” Vassa chirped.

Elain waited until there was once again silence on the other side of the line to speak. “Traitor.”

“I accept you’re welcome, I’m forever in your debts, I could never repay you.”

“I hate you,” Elain snapped. “I hope your favorite tree burns down in the next wildfire.”

“Low blow,” Vassa protested. It was, based on how much time and energy Vassa spent caring for that orange tree.

“I’m hanging up,” Elain said.

“Text your sister.”

“See you at spin tomorrow.”

“Love you bitch,” was Vassa’s sign off, and then the line went dead.

Vassa was too smart for her own good, Elain thought. Because if Lucien was in, so was she. There was no way she was going to look like the coward in front of Lucien, like she wasn’t willing to do something he will.

So she closed the phone app and pulled up her text messages.

Nesta’s was at the top, several unopened messages demanding an answer waiting.

We’re in.

#elucienweek2023 #elucien #elucien fanfiction #elucien fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

[changingplumbob]

York Household: Chapter 9, Part 11

In this final part my evil one is now Artemisia, Deanna suffers through a bug and we get some new family photos!

The Yorks are Italian so if you see them using words that don't look like English it's Italian, or what google assures me is Italian. Caro/Cara: Dear Buongiorno: Good morning Piccolo: Little one Tesoro: Treasure Nonno: Grandfather Nonna: Grandmother Si: Yes Grazie: Thank you Per Favore: Please Buon Compleanno: Happy Birthday

Of course if Kelly needed a wardrobe refresh there was only one sim who would do, older sister Devin! As well as being obsessed with her image she’s also getting pretty wealthy. Free shopping spree anyone? Back in Tartosa Kelly and Devin get a commemorative selfie.

Kelly: Grazie for the shop Devin and... grazie for finding the breastforms as well

Devin: Nessun problema, my director Norah knows where all the trans friendly stuff is. I’m just glad one of my sisters may like shopping. I know we may have gone overboard on the make up…. But the grey highlights your eyes

Kelly: It’s nice. When I go to school or wherever I want sims to know I’m a girl you know?

Devin: I can only imagine cara

Kelly: Well as an actress your imagination must be pretty good

Devin: *mock shock* A compliment? For little old me?

Kelly: Shut up. It’s never happening again

Devin: Forget the Starlight Accolade, I have now reached the pinnacle of my career. Come, let’s go find pa and he can tell you his next plan

Aaron: I didn’t see it coming. She never was interested in dresses or skirts or whatever. But I suppose Deanna wasn’t either. How you reacted to Onyx made me think a lot about how I’d react so I suppose I have you to thank for not having a bad reaction

Bob who is much younger than Aaron can’t quite believe that he’s had a positive effect on someone so he just smiles and nods.

Kelly: I’m here

Devin: She means… *sing song voice* we’re here!

Kelly: Do you have to announce yourself everywhere

Devin: It’s called main character energy sis. Besides, everytime I enter a room my theme music plays

Kelly: In your head and your head only

Devin: Oh my gosh can you not be a toad face for five seconds

Aaron: *sighs* As you can see Bob the change has not resulted in less bickering

Devin: Pa, we’re Italians. If we don’t be passionate about something daily, somewhere out there our Italian cred pass gets revoked

Kelly: So why is Fergus’ dad here?

Aaron: Because he’s not just Fergus’ dad. He’s Onyx’s dad to

Devin: And I’m here because I’m brilliant at everything, but also baby names

Kelly: You called your kid Rilian Villareal. Had you written that down in full and seen how weird it looks before you chose it

(the watcher chose "Rilian" independently. She did not think about the pairing with "Villareal" and how the whole thing just looks like a bunch of l's and i's with a couple of r's for good measure)

Devin: *scoffs* Let’s just get the brainstorm underway

Kelly: Brainstorm?

Aaron: I thought Fergus and Onyx could come over after school and help us think of names to shortlist. Unless you’ve already picked one?

Kelly: No I hadn’t… grazie pa. But I still get to choose right?

Aaron: 100%. Just not a swear word

Onyx: I don’t know, I was just thinking of names that were genderless and Onyx came to me like the watcher put it in my head or something

Devin: We should pick something Italian!

Bob: There are lots of food choices. Someone’s kid is called Apple

Fergus: Pick a voidcritter name, they’re cool

With lots of phone googling, laughing, and discussion the group arrive at a small list of names Kelly is happy to choose from. She goes into her room to ponder and settles on her favourite, Artemisia!

Deanna didn’t go to classes today; she was sick all day and chose to finish her coursework between naps.

Artemisia: This seat taken

Deanna: Aren’t you worried I’ll infect you with my germs

Artemisia: Suits me. Let me be the carrier of contagion and those kids I only slightly hurt can suffer without it getting blamed on me

Deanna: Kelly I’m trying to work here

Artemisia: It’s Artemisia

Deanna: Ahto -who – what?

Deanna: Sorry goblin, you’ll have to write that down for me to follow- no, not on my textbook!

Kelly: Too late

Deanna: So do you want to be called the whole mouthful? Artemisia

Artemisia: If you're too dumb to say the whole thing then say Emi or Emisia. But why not make other people suffer trying to say my name

Deanna: Well that’s on brand for you

In the kitchen Aaron has filled Calista in on the days progress and they’re doing their best to practice the new name.

Calista: Artemisia… My daughter is Artemisia… My youngest girl is Artemisia… Have you seen Atemisia…

Aaron: Bob suggested apple

Calista: Of course he did, man loves his food. Thank you for taking the day to be with her. Ti amo

Aaron: The dyslexia is something we need to support her- Artemisia with as well

Calista: *sighs* We would have bought our dream house right before all these expenses came up. I hope we can afford all she needs

Aaron: We can tap into the retirement fund

Calista: And what about when they make you retire

Aaron: I’m a hard worker, I think I’d be allowed to stay on past 65 if I wanted to. We’ve still got 7 or 8 years of work to save up with

Artemisia: Look at that, I did my homework faster than you, Artemisia for the win!

Deanna: You also had less of it

Artemisia: Do you know what anemia is?

Deanna: Why?

Artemisia: You do science

Deanna: Physics is not the same as biology dummy

Artemisia: I got an email that my blood tests came back saying I have it, whatever it is. I better tell ma and pa

Deanna enjoys the silence as Artemisia leaves for the main house. It’s hard enough focusing normally but when sick it’s even more difficult. She’s just gotten back into the rhythm of the work when-

Artemisia: Means low iron apparently

Deanna: Ke- Artemisia! Can’t you go eat your food elsewhere? I’m trying to focus

Artemisia: Oh, am I a distraction for you? So sad. I think I might have to cry about that

Eventually Artemisia finishes and leaves, also leaving her plate for anyone else to take care of.

In the middle of the night Artemisia gets woken up by terrible news, puberty is arriving via facial hair!

Artemisia: Don’t look at me mantis, it’s awful

Mantis: *sits silently*

Artemisia: Oh I’ve just got to get rid of it

She leaps from her bed and heads to the spare bathroom where she knows Aaron leaves some razors in case of guests needs. After watching a few youtube videos she does her best to remove the offending hair. The whole time she’s telling herself, three more years. Just three more years then we can take stuff to make this stop. Three more, I can survive that.

While this is happening Deanna is also having an awful night. With her term paper submitted she naps until she can take more painkillers. Unfortunately they seem to be making her woozy so she decides to skip a dose at her 2am dinner time. She manages to get back to sleep but in the morning she’s still feeling lightheaded. Another nap after breakfast clears up her illness and she’s awake for her exams. She averages a B+ this term, pretty good considering all the stress she’s been through.

Before work Calista and Aaron fit in some nectar creation, two more normal bottles of grape nectar tucked away to age. Artemisia may have flunked her exams today but she’s still riding high from the confidence of changing her name to suit her, so she’s unbothered. When everyone is home the family is invited around so we can get some photos of Artemisia looking like herself with her family. Joey is of course trying to show off despite being skinny… Zio Joey’s got this!

Alfred and Rilian eat in their high chairs. Surprising nobody, picky eater Rilian decides he doesn’t want to finish his meal actually. Instead he babbles with his twin. The others happily chat until it gets past the twins bedtime. Nonno Aaron is only to happy to usher the toddlers home before they start throwing tantrums.

Tamika: You haven’t seen me all rotation

Deanna: I’m sorry Mika, I got overwhelmed with everything

Tamika: Are you better now

Deanna: I think so. I mean I miss having Paris around but... I'm past the sad longing phase

Tamika: Good! Then we can start visiting the university nightclubs looking for guys and gals

Deanna: I don’t know if nightclubs are my thing

Tamika: That’s okay. We’ll check out the campus’ social pages, there’s bound to be some singles events, we’ll be each other’s wing woman

Deanna: Deal. Just… maybe keep the cute blondes to yourself for a while

And we finish this York chapter! Deanna may be single but she’s not falling apart, with my sim days to years maths it has been a year since she broke up with Paris. Artemisia is dreaming about making everyone at school embarrassed trying to say her name. Aaron and Calista haven’t gotten any promotions but are chipping away at the charisma skill. They do have years left to reach the top yet.

Previous ... Next (Chopra)

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #R0901 #KellyYork #ArtemisiaYork #DevinVillareal #AaronYork #BobPancakes

[blainesebastian]

mutually assured satisfaction (pt5)

words: 2,370 ship: austin butler x reader summary: reader’s agent approaches her with a PR stunt to date austin butler and promote both their careers. a mapped out plan, an electric relationship–what could possibly go wrong?   notes: masterlist is on my sidebar :) thanks for any comments, reblogs, likes and asks! always appreciated  warnings: grief via losing a family member  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @kittenlittle24, @slowsweetlove, @namoreno, @strokesofstokes, @callthedarknessdown, @kibumslatina, @al-co-hol-youlater, @frogoerson, @dancer4j 

It’s one of those inherent things that as soon as you close the door to your apartment after the charity event, you just know. You don’t even need to check the message from your mother even though you eventually do—there’s this terrible weighted ache in your chest that makes it feel like two cinderblocks are sitting on your ribcage. There are so many emotions swimming through you, unable to be pinned down, and you feel guilty above everything else. Guilty for being too busy, for not visiting enough, for not always picking up the phone, for a hundred things in your childhood and adolescence that don’t even make a difference now but for some reason feel like they do.

Guilty for not being there one last time, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

--

Everything just sort of comes to a screeching halt, like the world stops spinning for you. You attempt to communicate with people—Christina, the director on your movie, but it takes about a day for you to even move in a way that matters. Crawling into bed, you effectively shut down in a sense that you’ve never done so before. Your work ethic and your job mean so much to you but…none of it feels important right now, even though you can hear your grandmother’s voice inside your head telling you to stop moping around. She’d never want this for you, she wouldn’t want you to push people away or to jeopardize your career to mourn her.

And yet you cannot get yourself to do otherwise.

Christina informs you that your movie release has been put temporarily on pause and while you’re grateful for the moment to breathe, every bout of air you draw into your lungs is incredibly painful. It hurts to even be. You appreciate the time but are having difficulty even picturing what it’ll look like to move on, to go back to work, to pretend that your life hasn’t lost someone important. How do people do that?

What feels worse is that Austin has been trying to get ahold of you. A series of texts and then finally a few phone calls. For the first time in this thing together, you don’t know what to say to him. There’s this barrier that you seem to be straddling, the urge to tell him that you’ll be breaking up in a few weeks or so anyways so what’s the point of him trying to get in touch with you like this? He doesn’t actually care about you, everything has been fake, blown out of proportion, a façade.

And then on the other side—how desperately you want him to be here, to comfort you, to have his arms around you while you try not to feel like everything is falling apart. His lips on your skin, how his fingers feel running through your hair.

These opposing emotions pull so hard at you that you remain motionless, not doing anything, and a few days go past.

--

When there’s a series of knocks at your apartment door, you lift your head from your couch to squint at the wood. You’ve made it out of your bedroom, showered, and have eaten something, so, you don’t feel like a complete slug or failure. Your bones hurt, which feels like the weirdest sensation of grief. That heaviness that just…refuses to dissipate. Running a hand through your hair and over your face, you already know who it is even before he starts talking,

“Y/N—c’mon, I haven’t heard from you in days. Open the door.”

Sitting up on the couch, you let out a long sigh through your nose. There’s this twinge of remorse thrumming in your chest at giving Austin the silent treatment you just…didn’t know what to say to him, didn’t know how to say it. Nate gave you one piece of advice, one request from all the fucked up stuff that happened in your relationship and it was to let Austin in.

Already doing a great job at that.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there.” Austin sighs and while he sounds frustrated, you can pinpoint inflections in his tone where you can tell he’s worried. He’s not going to go away until you talk to him, so you pull yourself up off the couch and glance down at the leggings and oversized sweatshirt you’re wearing. This is gonna have to do.

“If this is about those articles, fuck them okay? They’re graspin’ at straws.”

Shaking your head lightly, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You know exactly what articles he’s referring to because Christina sent you the links to a few of them. Of course someone was at the charity event with a camera snapping pictures and they got some of you and Nate hugging hello and then you at the bar kissing Austin and decided to put aggravating click-bait titles along with them.

Are Nate Riley and Y/N L/N getting back together? Y/N L/N was seen cozying up to boyfriend Austin Butler at the same event— Is she playing both men?

Stupid.

Ironic almost, the language Austin uses to talk about the editorials and the actual articles themselves. The camera is essentially seeing something more honest than anything else—the fact that this whole thing is a fraud.

As you approach the door, you pause for a few moments to try and collect yourself or at least…figure out what you’re even going to say. Pulling all the locks free, you slowly tug the door open.

Austin takes in a short breath when he sees you, eyes sweeping over your form. He frowns, his eyebrows drawn together in a look of concern. He looks comfortable today, a simple pair of blue jeans, booties and that sherpa lined jean jacket he likes to wear. He leans against the doorjamb, waiting for you to say something, but the words are stuck in your throat.

“What’s up with your disappearin’ on me?” He asks softly, reaching out to gently tug at the fabric of your sweatshirt. “I was worried.”

You swallow, running your hand over your face because you really feel like an asshole now.

“If this is about the articles,” He starts and you quickly put your hand up to stop him because,

“No,” You whisper, pulling the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands, “It’s not the articles.”

Austin frowns again and patiently waits for a few moments but when you don’t say anything, he takes a step closer to the doorway, “What’s goin’ on?”

Swallowing down a lump in your throat, you stare at Austin as if you’ll be able to say the actual words about what’s wrong. But it’s in that moment you realize that you haven’t said it outloud yet, as if it won’t be true if it’s never said. You’re suddenly struggling to breathe and remain standing upright, your breath getting stuck in your lungs and oh god, you’re going to start crying right here and now even though you’ve finally just stopped.

“Hey,” Austin reaches for you, gently touching your arm, “What’s wrong?”

And that question alone breaks the dam wide open. Your composure crumples, one hand covering your face as a choked sob leaves your lips. Austin is quick, doesn’t ask for permission or concern himself with the distance you’ve created over the past few days. He draws you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. One slips along your back, rubbing at your shoulders, while the other works its way into your hair. This was the last thing you wanted, to allow yourself to fall apart in front of Austin, to let yourself feel much of anything given that you needed to be able to get out of your apartment and function within the next day or so. Go back to work, live your life.

Seems undoable any way you look at it.

You turn your face into Austin’s chest and hide there, burrowing into his shoulder, shuddering cries emptying as he squeezes you close. He carefully moves you inside your apartment, the door closing behind him. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, just keeps you against him, hands constantly moving, swaying gently left to right with you in his arms. You can’t imagine what he must think of you within these moments, no context as to what’s going on other than just knowing something isn’t right.

After a few minutes you pull yourself back from him, wiping your face. The skin of your cheeks is hot, splotched red, tear tracks left behind. You take a moment to gather yourself together to speak, sniffling as you look up at him,

“It’s m-my gram.”

Austin’s face shadows with understanding and his features twist with empathy as he cups your face, running his thumb along your cheek, “M’so sorry,” He whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. He lingers, thumb swiping back and forth on your skin, only pulling back when you take a step away.

You sniffle, running your hands over your face.

“What can I do?”

Shaking your head, you can’t even begin to think about an answer to that question. You know that Austin is coming from a genuine place, that he means well, but…there’s nothing he can do. There’s nothing that you can even think of to tell him. There’s this skittering in your chest that feels like beetles crawling over your ribcage, slipping into your bloodstream, making you feel incredibly antsy. As much as it doesn’t make sense, you want to be alone, you don’t want him to be here. You can’t handle the soft way he speaks to you or the way you feel when his skin touches yours,

Such a small voice in the back of your mind says don’t push him away and yet that’s exactly what you do.

“Nothing,” You shake your head, “There’s nothing you can do.”

Austin runs a hand through his hair, “Why don’t you lay down on the couch, I can at least make you some tea or somethin’.”

“You’re not listening to me,” You swallow, “I don’t want you here.”

He looks at you for a long moment, his jaw working as he nods because…he knows exactly what you’re doing and he’s debating on whether he should let you do it or not. You’re not sure what you want out of him more, this entire thing so damn conflicting, a battle of emotions welling inside your chest that you feel like you might crack open at any moment.

“Y/N, I can’t imagine how you must be feelin’, but don’t do this,” He shakes his head, holding your gaze, soft blue eyes boring into yours, “Don’t push me out, let me be here for you.”

You feel yourself bristle, a chill wrapping down your spine. Drawing your arms across your chest like a shield, you swallow over that ache in your throat, like shards of glass, “You’re not actually my boyfriend, Austin.” And you hate the words even as they come out of your mouth but you desperately need that distance, that invisible wall between the two of you.

Otherwise…everything starts feeling far too real, far too raw, and you’re not sure you can handle that.

“I don’t want you here, I need you to go,” You sniffle, running a hand over your face, “Please, just go.”

Austin lets out a soft sigh, hovering for just a few moments before he finally does as you ask. He opens up your door and tilts his head back to the ceiling to seemingly collect his thoughts. Once he does, he looks over his shoulder at you,

“This PR stunt might be fake, but I care about you, you know that, —that’s real. And I’ll be here when you’re ready.” And closes the door after him.

You stand there for a slow few minutes, the sound of the door closing echoing in your ears. It does not take long for tears to well in your eyes and for you to sink to the floor, pulling your knees against your chest.

--

You fly home for the funeral, a quick two-hour flight that somehow feels like eons. It’s definitely not a time that you’ve been envious to be home. Usually you love visiting, making it back for holidays, birthdays, any time you can and yet that guilt still remains that you didn’t make it back in time or enough for your grandmother. A small part of you knows that’s not fair and yet you can’t stop lathering in it, soaking in the remorse, the feeling coming out of your pores at this point.

It's a quick trip, you have to go back to work in two days, but you don’t dare tell your parents that. They’ve always been supportive but they always have a quick word or dig about not spending enough time with your family. It’s something that you’ve had to sacrifice to follow your dream, your passion—your grandmother understood that and supported you. Told you never to feel guilty for it because regret is a bigger killer. Your parents have seen your movies, watched your interviews, your mom especially has always been a cheerleader but emotions are naked and raw right now, the last thing you want to do is make anything worse.

You sit in your childhood home, on the couch, listening to your dad make small talk about the time of the funeral and the wake and suddenly you feel like you’re being yanked into a black hole because your body automatically reaches for—something, someone next to you and come up with air.

It’s a stark realization but you automatically understand what it means.

Standing from the couch, you excuse yourself to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee and take your phone out. Eyes blurring with tears but attempting to swallow them down, you draft a text—you are aware of how desperate it sounds, maybe a touch pathetic, but these emotions are strong enough to drown. Austin’s words vibrate in your mind, I’ll be here when you’re ready.

I was wrong, I need you. I’m so sorry. I really need you.

And hit send.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things #mas series #mas

[thewidowsghost]

Seeing the Beauty (Piper McLean x Fem!Reader) - Chapter 6

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

(Y/n)’s eyes snap open and she sits bolt upright. Her dream had felt so real, and yet, so distant and strange that it couldn’t possibly be true.

“Hey, you okay?” (Y/n) looks over to find Piper sitting by her bedside, her eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“What?” (Y/n) replies, drawing her knees up to her chest. “Yeah.”

Piper frowns, looking more worried.

“I -” (Y/n) bites her lip, trying to hold back her tears. From everything she’d heard about behind a half-blood, her dream was probably really true. Then she turns to study Piper. “Where’s Leo and Jason?”

“Leo’s with his cabinmates, and Jason is with Annabeth,” Piper replies.

(Y/n) nods distractedly before she meets Piper’s kaleidoscope gaze again, “Are you okay?” she asks. “You passed out.”

“Mhm,” Piper replies. “Rachel got possessed by Hera and gave me a death mission - free her from a prison.”

“You won’t have to do it alone,” (Y/n) replies, trying to comfort her friend, but her words seem to make Piper sadder.

Piper looks like she wants to say something, but she is interrupted by the sound of a conch horn.

“Dinner?” (Y/n) asks.

“You slept through it,” Piper replies. “I think it's time for the campfire.”

. . .

The whole campfire idea freaks Piper out. It makes her think of the huge purple bonfire in her dreams, and her father tied to a steak.

What Piper gets instead is almost as terrifying: a sing-along. The amphitheater steps are carved into the side of a hill, facing a stone-lined fire pit. Fifty or sixty kids fill the rows, clustered into groups under various banners.

(Y/n) spots Annabeth up front, next to Jason. Leo is nearby, sitting with a bunch of burly-looking campers under a steel gray banner emblazoned with a hammer. Standing in front of the fire, half a dozen campers with guitars and strange old-fashioned harps - lyres? - are jumping around, leading a song about pieces of armor, something about how their grandmothers got dressed for war. Everything is singing with them and making gestures for the pieces of armor and joking around.

This is quite possibly the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen, Piper thinks. This is totally one of those campfire songs that would’ve been embarrassing in daylight, but in the dark, with everybody participating, it’s kinda corny and fun. As the energy level gets higher, the flames do as well, turning from red to orange to gold.

Finally, the song ends with rowdy applause. A guy on a horse trots up; at least in the flickering light, Piper thinks the guy is on a horse, and then she realizes that he’s a centaur - a white stallion on the bottom half, and the top is a middle-aged buy with curly hair and a trimmed beard. He brandished a spear impaled with toasted marshmallows. “Very nice! And a special welcome to our new arrivals. I am Chiron, camp activities director, and I’m happy you have all arrived here alive and with most of your limbs attached. In a moment, I promise we’|l get to the s’mores, but first -”

“What about capture the flag?” somebody yells; grumbling breaks out among some kids in armor, sitting under a red banner with the emblem of a boar’s head.

“Yes,” the centaur says. “I know the Ares Cabin is anxious to return to the woods for our regular games.”

“And kill people!” one of them shouts.

“That might not be good for anybody’s health,” (Y/n) says, and she blinks with surprise to realize she’d spoken aloud, but then she laughs nervously while the other campers laugh at her joke.

(Y/n) glances over, meeting Piper’s gaze, smiling confusedly, and then she shrugs.

“However,” Chiron says, once everyone stops laughing, “until the dragon is brought under control, that won’t be possible. Cabin Nine, anything to report on that?”

Chiron turns to Leo’s group. Leo winks at Piper and shoots her with a finger gun. The girl next to him stands uncomfortably. She’s wearing an army jacket a lot like Leo’s, with her hair covered in a red bandanna. “We’re working on it.”

More grumbling.

“How, Nyssa?” an Ares kid demands.

“Really hard,” the girl replies. Nyssa sits down to a lot of yelling and complaining, which causes the fire to sputter chaotically. Chiron stamps his hoof against the fire pit stones - bang, bang, bang - and the campers fall silent.

“We will have to be patient,” Chiron says. “In the meantime, we have more pressing matters to discuss.”

“Percy?” someone asks. The fire dims even further, but Piper doesn’t need the mood flames to sense the crowd to sense the crowd’s anxiety.

Chiron gestures to Annabeth. She takes a deep breath and stands.

“I didn’t find Percy,” she announces. Her voice catches a little when she says his name. “He wasn’t at the Grand Canyon like I thought. But we’re not giving up. We’ve got teams everywhere. Grover, Tyson, Nico, the Hunters of Artemis - everyone’s out looking. We will find him. Chiron’s talking about something different. A new quest.”

“It’s the Great Prophecy, isn’t it?” a girl calls out.

Everyone turns. The voice had come from a group in back, sitting under a rose-colored banner with a dove emblem. They’d been chatting among themselves and not paying much attention until their leader stood up: Drew.

Everyone else looks surprised. Apparently Drew didn’t address the crowd very often.

“Drew?” Annabeth replies. “What do you mean?”

“Well, come on.” Drew spreads her hands like the truth was obvious. “Olympus is closed. Both Percy and (Y/n) disappeared. Hera sends you a vision and you come back with three new demigods in one day and (Y/n). I mean, something weird is going on. The Great Prophecy has started, right?”

Piper whispers to Rachel, “What’s she talking about - the Great Prophecy?”

Then Piper realizes that everyone else is looking at Rachel, too.

“Well?” Drew calls down. “You’re the oracle. Has it started or not?”

(Y/n)’s eyes glaze over.

Nico runs in from the street, and his face tells (Y/n) that something is wrong.

“It’s Rachel,” he says. “I just ran into her down on 32nd Street.”

Annabeth frowns. “What’s she done this time?”

"It's where she's gone," Nico replies. "I told her she would die if she tried, but she insisted. She just took Blackjack and -"

“Die?” (Y/n) echoes. “She took Blackjack?”

Nico nods. "She's heading to Half-Blood Hill. She said she had to get to camp."

. . .

“What was she thinking?” Annabeth says as they run for the river. Unfortunately, (Y/n) has a pretty good idea, and it fills her with dread.

The traffic is terrible. Everyone is out on the streets, gawking at the war zone damage. Police sirens wail on every block. There was no possibility of catching a cab, and the pegasi had flown away. (Y/n) would've settled for some Party Ponies, but they had disappeared along with most of the root beer in Midtown. So they run, pushing through mobs of dazed mortals that clog the sidewalks.

“She’ll never get through the defenses,” Annabeth says. “Peleus will eat her.”

(Y/n) hadn’t considered that. The Mist wouldn’t fool her girlfriend like it would most people. She’d be able to find Camp no problem, but (Y/n) had been hoping that the magical barriers would just keep Rachel out - like a forcefield. It hadn’t occurred to her that the dragon might eat her.

“We have to hurry,” Percy says, catching the worried look on his twin sister’s face. “I don’t suppose you could conjure up some skeleton horses.”

The Son of Hades wheezes as he runs. “So tired . . . couldn’t summon a dog bone.”

Finally, the demigods scramble over the embankment to the shore, and (Y/n) lets out a loud whistle, but she hates doing it. Even with the sand dollar she and Percy had given the East River for a magical cleaning, the water here is still polluted. (Y/n) didn’t want to make any sea animals sick, but they came to her call.

Four wake lines appear in the gray water, and a pod of hippocampi break the surface. They whinny unhappily, shaking the river muck from their manes. They are beautiful creatures, with multicolored fish tails, and the heads and forelegs of white stallions. The hippocampus in front is much bigger than the others - a ride fit for a Cyclops.

"Rainbow!" I called. "How's it going, buddy?"

He neighs a complaint.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," (Y/n) replies. "But it's an emergency. We need to get to camp."

He snorts.

"Tyson?" Percy says. "Tyson is fine! I'm sorry he's not here. He's a big general now in the Cyclops

Army."

"NEEEEIGGGGH!"

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll still bring you apples. Now, about that ride . . ."

In no time, Annabeth, Nico, Percy and (Y/n) are zipping up the East River faster than jet skis. They speed under the Throgs Neck Bridge and head for Long Island Sound.

. . .

It seems like forever to (Y/n) until they see the beach at camp. The demigods thank the hippocampi and wade ashore, only to find Argus waiting for them. He is standing in the sand with his arms crossed, his hundred eyes glaring at them.

“Is she here?” (Y/n) asks, worried for her girlfriend’s safety. Argus nods grimly.

“Is everything okay?” Annabeth says; Argus shakes his head.

The four demigods follow Argus up the trail. It’s surreal being back at camp. Nothing’s burning. No wounded fighters, (Y/n) thinks. The cabins are bright in the sunlight, and the fields glitter with dew. But the camp is empty.

Up at the Big House, the demigods notice something is obviously wrong. Green light is shooting out all the windows, just as (Y/n) had seen in her dream about May Castellan. Mist - the magical kind - swirls around the yard. Chiron lies on a horse-sized stretcher by the volleyball pit, a bunch of satyrs standing around him.

Blackjack canters nervously in the grass. Don’t blame me, boss! The pegasus pleads when he sees (Y/n). Your girl made me do it!

Rachel Elizabeth Dare stands at the bottom of the porch stairs. Her arms are raised, like she is waiting for someone inside the house to throw her a ball.

“What’s she doing?” Annabeth demands. “How did she get past the barriers?”

"She flew," one of the satyrs says, looking accusingly at Blackjack. "Right past the dragon, right through the magic boundaries."

"Rachel!” (Y/n) calls, but the satyrs stop her when she tries to go any closer.

"(Y/n), don't," Chiron warns. He winces as he tries to move. His left arm is in a sling, his two back legs are in splints, and his head is wrapped in bandages. "You can't interrupt."

"I thought you explained things to her!"

"I did. And I invited her here."

(Y/n) stares at him in disbelief. "You said you'd never let anyone try again! You said —"

"I know what I said, (Y/n). But I was wrong. Rachel had a vision about the curse of Hades. She believes it may be lifted now. She convinced me she deserves a chance."

"And if the curse isn't lifted? If Hades hasn't gotten to that yet, she'll go crazy!"

The Mist swirls around Rachel. She shivers like she is going into shock.

"Hey!" (Y/n) shouts. "Stop!"

(Y/n) runs towards her, ignoring the satyrs. She gets within ten feet and hits something like an invisible beach ball; bounces back and lands in the grass.

Rachel opens her eyes and turns. She looks like she was sleepwalking — like she could see (Y/n), but only in a dream.

"It's all right." Her voice sounds far away. "This is why I've come."

"You'll be destroyed!"

She shakes her head. "This is where I belong, (Y/n). I finally understand why."

It sounded too much like what May Castellan had said. I have to stop her, but (Y/n) can’t even get to her feet.

The house rumbles. The door flies open and green light pours out. (Y/n) recognizes the warm musty smell of snakes.

Mist curls into a hundred smoky serpents, slithering up the porch columns, curling around the house.

And then the Oracle appears in the doorway.

The withered mummy shuffles forward in her rainbow dress. She looks even worse than usual, her hair was falling out in clumps, and leathery skin was cracking like the seat of a worn-out bus. Her glassy eyes stare blankly into space, but (Y/n) gets the creepiest feeling she was being drawn straight towards Rachel.

Rachel holds out her arms. She doesn’t look scared. "You've waited too long," Rachel says. "But I'm here now."

The sun blazes more brightly. A man appears above the porch, floating in the air — a blond dude in a white toga, with sunglasses and a cocky smile.

"Apollo," (Y/n) murmurs.

He winks at her but holds up his finger to his lips.

"Rachel Elizabeth Dare," he says. "You have the gift of prophecy. But it is also a curse. Are you sure you want this?"

Rachel nods. "It's my destiny."

"Do you accept the risks?"

"I do."

"Then proceed," the god says.

Rachel closes her eyes. "I accept this role. I pledge myself to Apollo, God of Oracles. I open my eyes to the future and embrace the past. I accept the spirit of Delphi, Voice of the Gods, Speaker of Riddles, Seer of Fate."

(Y/n) doesn’t know where she is getting the words, but they flow out of her as the Mist thickens. A green column of smoke, like a huge python, uncoils from the mummy's mouth and slithers down the stairs, curling affectionately around Rachel's feet. The Oracle's mummy crumbles, falling away until it was nothing but a pile of dust in an old tie-dyed dress. Mist envelopes Rachel in a column.

For a moment (Y/n) can’t see her at all. Then the smoke clears.

Rachel collapses and curls into the fetal position. Annabeth, Nico, Percy, and (Y/n) rush forward, but Apollo says, "Stop! This is the most delicate part."

"What's going on?" (Y/n) demands. "What do you mean?"

Apollo studies Rachel with concern. "Either the spirit takes hold, or it doesn't."

"And if it doesn't?" Annabeth asks.

"Five syllables," Apollo replies, counting them on his fingers. "That would be real bad."

Despite Apollo's warning, (Y/n) runs forward and kneels over Rachel. The smell of the attic is gone. The Mist sinks into the ground and the green light fades. But Rachel is still pale. She is barely breathing.

Then her eyes flutter open. She focuses on (Y/n) with difficulty. "(Y/n)."

"Are you okay?"

She tries to sit up. “Ow,” she presses her hands to her temples.

“Rachel,” Nico says, “your life aura almost faded completely. I could see you dying.”

“I’m all right,” she murmurs in reply. “Please help me up. The visions – they’re a little disorienting.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” (Y/n) asks.

Apollo drifts down from the porch. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the new Oracle of Delphi.”

“You’re kidding,” Annabeth says.

Rachel manages a weak smile. “It’s a little surprising to me too, but this is my fate. I saw it when I was in New York. I know why I was born with true sight. I was meant to become the Oracle.”

(Y/n) blinks. “You mean, you can tell the future now?”

“Not all the time,” she replies. “But there are visions, words in my mind. When someone asks me a question, I . . . Oh no –”

“It’s starting,” Apollo announces.

Rachel doubles over like someone had punched her. Then she stands straight up and her eyes glow serpent green.

When she speaks, her voice sounds tripled – like three Rachels are talking at once:

(Y/n) snaps back to the present and says: “Seven half-bloods shall answer the call. To storm or fire the world must fall –”

Jason shoots to his feet. His eyes are wild, like he’d just been tasered.

Rachel seems caught off guard – but her friend’s outburst and Jason’s jump to his feet. “J-jason?” she says. “What’s –”

“Ut cum spiritu postrema sacramentum dejuremus, ” he chants. “Et hostes ornamenta addent ad ianuam necem.”

An uneasy silence settles on the group. Piper can see from their faces that several of them are trying to translate the lines. She can tell it’s Latin.

“An oath to keep with a final breath. And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death.” (Y/n) finishes.

“You just . . .” Rachel glances between the two demigods, “finished the known part of the prophecy.”

“Known?” (Y/n) questions, and Rachel nods reluctantly.

“Last night, I had a vision, revealing the final lines of the prophecy. It went like this: Child of the Sea will accompany the Seven. And drop into endless darkness.”

(Y/n) meets her ex-girlfriend’s gaze and can tell from the look in her eyes that Rachel thought that that part of the prophecy was about her.

“We hoped that the prophecy wouldn’t be starting for a few years, but I fear it’s starting now. I can’t give you proof. It’s just a feeling. And like Drew said, some weird stuff is happening. The seven - plus the ‘Child of the Sea’ - whoever they are, have not been fathered yet. I have the feeling some of them are here tonight. Some are not.

The campers begin to stir and mutter, looking at each other nervously, until a drowsy voice in the crowd calls out, “I’m here! Oh . . . were you calling roll?”

“Go back to sleep, Clovis,” someone yells, and a lot of people laugh.

“Anyway,” Rachel continues, “we don’t know what the Great Prophecy means. We don’t know what challenge the demigods will face, but since the first Great Prophecy predicted the Titan War, we can guess the second Great Prophecy will predict something at least that bad.”

“Or worse,” Chiron murmurs. Maybe he didn’t mean for everyone to hear, but they did. The campfire immediately turns dark purple, just like Piper’s dream.

(Y/n), who had turned to murmur a question to Piper, sees the terrified look in the demigod’s eyes, and grabs her friend’s hand, squeezing it gently.

“What we do know,” Rachel says, getting the attention of the campers again, “is that the first phase has begun. A major problem has arisen, and we need a quest to solve it. Hera, the Queen of the Gods, has been taken.”

Shocked silence. Then fifty demigods start talking at once.

Chiron pounds his hoof again, but Rachel still has to wait before she can get their attention.

She tells the other demigods about the incident on the Grand Canyon skywalk – how Gleeson Hedge had sacrificed himself when the storm spirits attacked, and how the spirits had warned that it was only the beginning. They apparently served some great mistress who would destroy all demigods. Then she tells them about Piper passing out in Hera’s cabin. Piper tries to keep a calm expression, even when she notices Drew in the back row, pantomiming a faint, and her friends giggling. Finally, Rachel tells them about Jason’s vision in the Big House. The message Hera had delivered there was so similar that Piper gets a chill. The only difference: Hera had warned Piper not to betray her: Bow to his will, and their king shall rise, dooming us all. Hera knew about the giant’s threat. But if that was true, Piper wonders, why hadn’t she warned Jason, and exposed me as an enemy agent?

“Jason,” Rachel says. “Um . . . do you remember your last name?”

The blonde looks self-conscious, but he shakes his head.

“We’ll just call you Jason, then,” Rachel says. “It’s clear Hera herself has issued you a quest.” She pauses, as if giving Jason a chance to protest his destiny. Everyone’s eyes are on him, yet he looks brave and determined, and (Y/n) admires the way he sets his jaw and nods. “You must save Hera to prevent a great evil,” Rachel continues. “Some sort of king from rising. For reasons we don’t yet understand, it must happen by the winter solstice, only four days from now.

“That’s the council day of the gods,” Annabeth says. “If the gods don’t already know Hera’s gone, they will definitely notice her absence by then. They’ll probably break out fighting, accusing each other of taking her. That’s what they usually do.”

The winter solstice,” Chiron speaks up, “is also the time of greatest darkness. The gods gather that day, as mortals always have, because there is strength in numbers. The solstice is a day when evil magic is strong. Ancient magic, older than the gods. It is a day when things . . . stir.”

The way he sounds it sounds absolutely sinister.

“Okay,” Annabeth says, glaring at the centaur. “Thank you, Captain Sunshine. Whatever’s going on, I agree with Rachel. Jason has been chosen to lead this quest, so –”

“Why hasn’t he been claimed?” somebody from the Ares cabin yells. “If he’s so important –”

“He has been claimed,” Chiron announces. “Long ago. Jason, give them a demonstration.”

Word Count: 3531 words

Taglist:

@camaddison​​

@steinfellds​​

@p-taryn-dactyl​​

@oculusalien​​

@@pink-widows

@unlikelysublimekryptonite

@yellowvxbes

@decadentrebelkitten

@eevil-empress

@anteroz

@mag-mfm

@26randomness

@cair-paravel-narnia

@hayhaythegaygay

#piper mclean x reader #piper mclean x female reader #piper mclean x fem reader #lesbian piper mclean

[doctorhelena]

Steggy Fic: A Stutter in Time, Chapter 16

I’ve created something for every day of Steggy Week 2022 over at @steggyfanevents! This is for Day 2 (WIPs and Updates). Previous Days: Day 1

Summary: 1945 Peggy Carter appears in Tony Stark’s lab, and immediately throws a wrench into everything.

Rating: PG

Read Chapter 16

Read from the beginning

Excerpt:

Thor and Sif both looked somewhat startled by Peggy’s story, occasionally shooting worried glances at each other as she described her experience and what she knew about the time machine. Jane, on the other hand, was unabashedly leaning forward in barely-restrained excitement by the time Peggy had finished. “Have you met your older self since you got here?” she asked, utterly fascinated, and Peggy shook her head.

“Not yet. And I’m not entirely certain that it would be a good idea. She’s - ” she glanced at Steve.

“She’s suffering from Alzheimer’s,” Pepper explained, after a moment, when Steve didn’t jump in. She turned to Thor and Sif. “That’s when - ”

“I understand,” said Thor, unexpectedly. “Her mind is wandering to Valhalla.” Pepper considered, then slowly nodded.

“Crap, that must be - God. I’m so sorry,” Jane blurted, then opened her mouth again and closed it a bit awkwardly.

Peggy looked a little uncomfortable. “No need,” she said briskly.

Pepper wondered, not for the first time, what it must be like for Peggy to know with a fair degree of certainty that - well, no, she told herself firmly. Medical science would have advanced by then. The research fund named after Pepper's own grandmother had been making some very promising discoveries lately, and Peggy was only in her 20s despite her actual date of birth. And quite frankly, at this point Peggy had so many immediate concerns that something that might not even happen decades from now had to be pretty far back in the queue.

Besides, the enhanced healing ability from the serum would probably - wait. Pepper blinked. Director Carter had the same enhancements. So - did their effectiveness fade with age? Did they not cross the blood-brain barrier? She frowned. Well, there was probably a scientific explanation, but she made a mental note to ask Bruce about it once the current excitement was over.

Speaking of science, Jane had recovered enough to ask Tony and Bruce if she could examine their time machine data, reminding Pepper of the foremost of Peggy's immediate concerns: getting the time machine to Asgard before an excited human science genius made things even worse.

Read the rest of the chapter on A03

#fanfic #steggy #steggyweek23 #my fic #wip #peggy carter #steve rogers

[nastyavolk-cp]

Little Owl - Yandere Platonic Athena x "Reader" (3/3)

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[January 21th, 2023]

Alexia was sitting on the bed in her bedroom, she had a miserable expression on her face and she knew exactly why. A week had passed since the Goddess of Wisdom's promise that she would fulfill what she swore to do: take Alexia to Olympus so that the two could be by each other's side for the rest of eternity.

She only had a week left to be with her mortal family and that's what she had done, spent as much time as she could in the presence of her family which she would never have the opportunity to see once she was taken to Earth. Olympus. Alexia was also enrolled in the local school and just when she thought she would get some peace of mind this week without the presence of the Goddess of Wisdom, her wishes were soon shattered when the opposite happened.

→→→𝜴←←←

On Monday, Alexia was dropped off at the school gate and she looked back to see her parents and grandmother giving her encouraging smiles, wishing her all the best for her first day at a Romanian school.

She followed the flow of students heading to their classrooms despite it being 20 minutes before classes actually started. Alexia was informed about her class room the day before and without much difficulty she managed to find the classroom, without much ceremony she entered and analyzed the environment, she noticed that some students who were in the room stopped everything they were doing and stared at her with looks of curiosity and strangeness.

The Greek girl waved her hand and was slightly embarrassed. She sat in the first desk in the middle row, the seat was in front of the blackboard and also the teacher's table. As soon as she was settled in her desk, she took Percy Jackson's book out of her backpack and read it to make time pass faster and to calm her conflicted thoughts about the situation she was in with a certain goddess who had threatened her for two days. before.

Time passed quickly and without her realizing it, the room filled up and a very elderly woman with white hair and plump, in which Alexia had met her in person the day before as the director, stopped in front of the blackboard. Alexia immediately put her book away and fixed her gaze on the elderly woman who immediately stared back at her with a friendly smile.

“Good morning class, good to see you today. At this moment I bring you two important news: Firstly, we have a new colleague who joined us after the recess, Ms. Alexandra Lykaios-Romanescu. I hope everyone will welcome her as one of us by the end of the semester and onwards. Alexandra, honey, come up front and introduce yourself to your class.” Without much choice, Alexia gets up from her desk and goes to the front of the blackboard and beside the director. The Greek girl looked nervously at the whole class in which the majority stared at her with interest and curiosity, Alexia swallowed the saliva that had accumulated in her mouth and moistened her lips, she prepared to speak and holding her own hands that were slightly trembling, after a few seconds she finally introduced herself.

"Good morning, I'm Alexandra, but you can call me Alexia if you want. I'm from Greece but I have family here in Romania. Well, I hope we get along well and it's a pleasure to meet you." It could have been worse but Alexia in her head did better in the presentation than she expected as she saw her new classmates cast approving and also friendly looks, this relieved Alexia and the principal with a smile on her face allowed Alexia to return to her seat.

“But I also bring bad news. Your history teacher is on leave for a week because he got COVID. But luckily we managed to find a replacement for him.” This immediately caught Alexia's attention as soon as she sat down and she looked at the door out of curiosity, but immediately regretted having done it because there was everything she least wanted to see in the week.

“Class, meet Ms. Athena Olympus. I want you to treat her with respect and not give her trouble." Alexia's day couldn't get any worse, it wasn't possible that Athena loves torture psychologically to this extent. The goddess of wisdom entered the room and faced Alexia with a small smile, leaving the Greek girl frightened by what she was witnessing at that moment.

“Good morning, it's a great pleasure to meet you, I hope we get along well and as for you, Ms. Alexandra, I hope you have a good start here.” Alexia flinched at being mentioned, it was obvious that underneath all that friendliness, Athena was teasing her as only they knew Alexia wouldn't last long as a mortal.

Alexia's class and the director seemed very enchanted by Athena's natural charm, with her aura standing out with wisdom and mystery in which Alexia was sure that in a very short time the goddess would have everyone there wrapped around her little finger. Well, everyone but her who was able to see what she had behind that mask.

The principal left the room wishing her class a good start and Athena started her class, which was about Ancient Greece, which was no surprise to Alexia but the girl understood it as an affront to her. The goddess of wisdom began to tell about the origin of the archaic Greek world, Alexia briefly looked around her and she noticed how everyone was staring at Athena, deeply listening to her lecture as if they were being bewitched by her intelligence and knowledge.

When 20 minutes had passed, Athena decided to take a break and glared at Alexia with a look of slight malice in which Alexia felt wary as she stared back at those olive green eyes. Athena had something planned for her and she was absolutely sure of it.

“Alexandra, I assume you know some Greek myths, don't you?” Alexia looked at everyone in the room who was now staring at her with such depth and attention, it was as if she were now putting a spell on them. The Greek girl reluctantly nodded and the goddess of wisdom smiled. “Well, tell us one. I want everyone to pay close attention to what she is going to say.”

Alexia thought for a few seconds about the tale she was going to tell but the fact that everyone was staring at her left her feeling pressured and a little nervous. But Alexia took a breath and let it out through her mouth, pushing her nervousness and fear aside so that she could glare at Athena with a look of contempt.

“Once upon a time, there was a young girl who was a beautiful priestess, her name was Medusa.” Athena immediately looked at Alexia and the girl could see the slight displeasure on her face, the girl gave a sassy smile in response. “She was the most beautiful of the priestesses of the goddess Athena and as the Goddess of Wisdom swore a vow of chastity, that is, to remain a virgin forever, her priestesses had to do the same. But one fine day, Poseidon the God of the Seas was hopelessly attracted to her…”

Alexia was enjoying Athena's face, which on the outside looked calm and collected, paying attention to the student, but for Alexia she could see her aura showing fury that was slowly consuming her.

“Poseidon and Athena never got along and seeing the opportunity to provoke the goddess of wisdom, Poseidon forcibly seduced Medusa, against the will of the priestess who begged for help but no one helped her. After the attack, when the priestess stepped into the temple, Athena immediately knew that her vow was broken. Medusa tried to explain herself to her Goddess but Athena would not listen, blinded by her hatred for Poseidon and also for Medusa, and as punishment the poor priestess was transformed into a horrible Gorgon. Her beautiful hair that was once envied turned into horrible snakes and her body literally turned into the body of a serpent, with scales and even a snake tail. Anyone who looked into her eyes would immediately be turned to stone and Medusa was exiled to the temple where she dedicated her entire life to the Goddess, who in the end turned her back on her. Until one day a hero named Perseus is finally able to free her from her bitterness and hatred of the gods by cutting off her head.”

“What a tragic story, don't you agree, Professor Olympus? When she needed it most, the goddess refused her help and cast a curse. She didn't deserve this, didn't she?” Alexia commented with a tone of irony, of course at that moment she should be afraid of Athena but Alexia wanted the goddess of wisdom to taste a little of her own medicine. The Greek girl admitted that she was delighted to see Athena's aura surrounded by hatred for Alexia's disrespect, but the girl couldn't care less for that.

“It is indeed a rather tragic story, Alexandra. Thank you very much for your cooperation.” Athena said grudgingly but her look, oh her look was pure rage and the goddess swore the girl would pay dearly for her boldness.

The class continued until break time arrived, the students were getting ready to leave and Alexia was doing the same, but she was soon called to attention by Athena who was staring at her with a rigid expression.

"Ms. Romanescu, I would like you to remain here as we have some things to discuss." Alexia knew what this was about and seeing that she had absolutely no choice but to stay, she remained in her seat and watched as the last student left the room, leaving just the two alone.

Then Athena walked to the door and placed a soundproof barrier so that no one could hear what they were going to talk about. Without looking at Alexia, Athena asks her.

“How was your first time in my class?” Of course, Alexia was already waiting for this one, but that's not why she would leave things easy for Athena, who deep down and explicitly wanted Alexia to be submissive to her.

"Why are you asking that?" Alexia asked, placing her hands on her waist and making a doubtful expression. Athena calmly turned to look at her and shrugged her shoulders relaxedly.

“I'm just curious. Did you enjoy learning from me?” The goddess of wisdom asked again.

“Why is this so important to you? I have things to do.”

“Stop being stubborn and answer me.”

“Okay, if that will stop you from bothering me. Well, I think you're a good teacher. Can I go on my break now?” Alexia says huffing impatiently and not being able to put up with the Goddess of Wisdom's bullshit.

“Do you still intend to be stubborn with me, Little Owlet? You and I both know what's coming this week so why prolong the inevitable?" Athena asked seriously as she glared at the Greek girl who rolled her eyes at the goddess's question. Did she seriously have to explain this to Athena of all people?

"I don't want to submit to you or your idiotic whims." The Greek girl says she's fed up and already wants to attack the goddess, but of course she wasn't able to attack her even if she really wanted to.

“It would be so much easier for me if you would submit. I would hate to already have to break you in your new life.” The Goddess explained, but the girl did not listen to her.

“And I would hate to be cut out of my life just because of a selfish deity.” Alexia answered her as she sat on the desk and Athena accompanied her, leaning on the girl's desk.

“Some things you don't want to do… are exactly what's best for you.” The Goddess says with slight confidence and Alexia shakes her head in response.

“What makes you think you know what's best for me?” the Greek girl asked curiously.

“I am the Goddess of Wisdom, I know everything, Little Owlet.” Athena answers the girl's question with a cocky smile on her face. Alexia gives the goddess an infuriated look and responds rudely.

“I don't care who you are, the only person who knows what's best for me is myself.” Athena sighed in slight exhaustion, for the goddess to argue with Alexia was not easy at all and it was very exhausting for her but she knew that no matter how much the Greek girl tries to rebel she would end up in the arms of the Goddess of Wisdom sooner or later.

“That's where you're wrong, but you'll see it soon in a few days. Until next time, Little Owlet.” Athena lightly strokes Alexia's hair and then leaves the room as if nothing had happened. That conversation was enough to make Alexia not hungry at all and make her grumpy for the rest of the day.

The rest of the day passed normally, even though Alexia's meeting with Athena earlier that day had left her frustrated and the Greek girl was quite sure that this would not be the last time she would see the goddess this week. But to the girl's surprise, she didn't see Athena for the rest of the week, but every time she got home she felt the presence of something watching her.

But it wasn't because Alexia didn't see Athena physically for the rest of the week, it kept her from hearing her in her head. Sometimes when Alexia planned some way to try to escape the goddess, the same invaded her thoughts saying that it was useless for her to try to escape because she would always find her no matter how hard she tried to escape her clutches.

And during the nights, Alexia had the same dreams with the giant owl encouraging her to give up trying to resist against Athena, because in the end it was useless for Alexia to try to escape because Athena was the goddess of wisdom and war strategy. Escape from Athena's obsessive gaze at this point was impossible and Alexia, even having an intelligence above other mortals, was no match for the goddess of wisdom herself and in the end, Alexia could not do anything but give up.

So the mortal did everything she wanted before the day arrived, she spent more time with her parents and her grandmother as much as she could and also tried to distract herself as much as possible with her studies at her new school. She also even managed to finish the Percy Jackson book on time.

→→→𝜴←←←

And that brings it to the present moment, Alexia woke up already knowing that this was her last day with her mortal family. Once she's had breakfast and a shower, she's changed into a black shirt, jean shorts, and a baggy vintage cardigan. Alexia helped her grandmother tend to the garden, helped her father repair his acoustic guitar and also helped her mother knit a new sweater. She did all this knowing that she would never see them again and it depressed her until lunchtime when suddenly her grandmother started to feel sick and her parents had to rush her to the hospital.

And with that, Alexia was alone in the house and as soon as they left the clouds began to darken and Alexia knew who was responsible for that. Sighing heavily, she went to her room and tidied it up, knowing that in the end it wouldn't make any difference but it would calm her anguished heart.

And from her backpack Alexia takes a letter that she herself wrote to her relatives once she gets abducted. She hid the letter under her pillow hoping they would find it as soon as they got back and she’s out of sight.

Alexia then sat on her bed and waited for the fateful moment to happen, she could hear the sounds of the storm roaring in the skies and she anxiously and depressingly waited for her inevitable cruel destiny to be fulfilled. Just as she heard the sound of the rain turn aggressive, she also heard the sound of the window suddenly opening and an owl entering the room.

Light flooded the room and as Alexia opened her eyes after instinctively closing them, her heart sank as she saw the figure she had so eagerly waited for: Athena in all her glory wearing the clothes befitting a Greek goddess.

“Are you ready to fulfill our promise, Alexandra?” Athena asked and Alexia lowered her head, but the goddess grabbed the Greek girl's chin and forced Alexia's face up so they could face each other properly.

“I didn't make that promise.” Alexia muttered but Athena remained with her sadistic smile, Alexia will soon know her place and question her no more.

“Promising or not, you're still mine, Alexandra. And all deities will know who you belong to. But let's not waste any more time, shall we, my Little Owlet?" Before Alexia could protest, Athena grabs her wrist and forces her up from the bed, then presses the small Greek girl against her own body, preventing her from resisting. Alexia knew that fighting was pointless and that there was no denying that she now belonged to the Goddess of Wisdom.

The girl then closed her eyes as she felt her body going numb. She knew that Athena was transporting them to Mount Olympus where she would live for the rest of eternity. because she already knew that it would only be a matter of time before she became a goddess and then she would spend eternity beside her 'new mother'.

As soon as she opened her eyes they were in the middle of a circle with several thrones around and on them were the main gods of Olympus that formed it. Zeus was the way she had visualized, a man with white hair and light eyes, besides wearing an arrogant smile when he looked at her. The other gods present looked at the girl with curiosity and Aphrodite, the most beautiful goddess in Greek mythology, was the first to break the unpleasant silence.

"Well, well, young Alexandra is finally among us. We've been looking forward to meeting you in person!" Immediately Athena pressed Alexandra even more when she heard the shrill voice of the Goddess of Love.

“You don't dare look at my daughter with your malicious gaze. In fact, from today on Alexandra will remain in my chambers until I say that she can be on familiar terms with all of you.” Athena says authoritative and many of the gods show their revolt and disappointment, but Zeus agrees with his daughter and says that no one would approach Alexia without Athena's permission.

It wasn't long before Alexia was led by her new mother to her chambers. As soon as the two of them walked through the huge golden door, Alexia knew that from that day on she would have no chance of running away.

For now she is Athena's most precious Owllet and the Goddess of Wisdom would make sure the girl would never leave her sight. Alexia belongs to Athena and it wouldn't take long for everyone to know it, including herself.

#yandere athena #little owl au #alexandra lykaios romanescu #alexia romanescu/female reader #yandere greek mythology #yandere greek gods #Athena Route

[shelandsorcery]

website thoughts

Since moving apartments, I've been feeling a kind of spring cleaning urge for all of my things physical and it turns out, digital. Since my physical belongings are in unmanageable mountain of family heirlooms in the form of bankers boxes full of loose photographs, and artifacts from my grandmother's childhood that nobody can identify but also nobody ever threw out, I've been feeling like I should try something a little bit more manageable first.

By that I mean, my digital life. I have maintained a personal website on the internet since 1997; for the majority of that time, my personal website has served primarily as a portfolio of my artwork. However, that's not necessary right now, for a couple of reasons:

A) Careerwise, I'm working as a salaried, permanent art director at a videogame company. I'm not only not currently looking for a job, but my prior approach to jobhunting, having a collection of examples of my concept art and illustration, probably isn't the best way to find another salaried art director job in future. While it might be one part of that hunt, I suspect I will also need examples of the finished games, as well as all the other things people use to get real jobs like references, etc. This means that a personal portfolio site won't be the make or break in my future job hunt at this time.

B) Perhaps even more importantly, though, I don't know that a portfolio of my prior work is going to be a particularly accurate demonstration of what my work going forward is going to look like. Since my arm surgery, I'm learning to draw with my left hand, and since I don't have anywhere near the physical control over it that I did over my dominant hand, my approach to making art is being forced to change. And it's very early days, right now I'm still teaching myself to write legibly, and building the muscles it takes to do that. Line control and mark making with appeal are simply not on the short-term schedule. So much as I am proud of, and attached to my prior work, my prior style, and my prior process, it feels dishonest to promise those to future clients. Or to myself, really. So a portfolio format just asks a lot of questions I have no answers to at this time.

Other reasons for having my work on the internet include selling it, which I certainly love to do, but between moving and my arm and paperwork, right now I'm just selling PDFs in a pay what you want capacity on my gumroad store. I do hope to get back into designing products and selling playmaps and so on, but it's the right choice right now to keep that on hold.

So I'm a bit at a loss for what to do with my personal website, is the TLDR of all this. I really got out of the habit of blogging or writing personal thoughts on the Internet when we entered the everything is problematic phase of cultural conversations; I would like to reclaim that but it might be safer to do so in the less personal/more anonymous space of cohost or tumblr or such. I'm certainly curious to hear people's thoughts on that!

One angle I had thought of was approaching my website as an archive, as opposed to a portfolio; I can be a bit obsessive about tracking the chronology of things, why not take advantage of that? But I don't know if that has any interest to anybody aside from myself, though I guess that's reason enough to do it. I had considered blogging about the process of learning to use my nondominant hand/retraining my dominant hand once we know what its final capacity will be, and I have been keeping personal notes on all of this, but I don't think this is something I can share publicly in real-time. It's a bit intense. Maybe years down the road I'll be able to condense it into a simpler narrative that I'm comfortable sharing?

Unfortunately all of this is tied up in my process of relearning to create right now; I'm not sure that I really need outside help figuring this out, as much as I need just the space to dump thoughts out of my head. But if you do have thoughts, or stuff you'd like to see from me, or questions, certainly let me know!

Thanks for reading this hot mess!

*(dictated but not read)*

#art website #portfolio #left hand life #rambling

[lunacornfan2k24]

I am sending this as an ask purely so I don’t blow up your discord-

This twist is driving me insane. Not in a “badly written” way, just a “I’m now overthinking every little thing” way.

How was Elliot the only one able to make significant progress through Phoenix’s case?

Why is Zor’s hat mentioned so much? Is it important or is it just a middle finger to Zor?

Why did Ms Shiori glare at Avery’s grandmother? Is she evil- no, she wouldn’t have called the Aces in that case.

What’s up with Director Sirenko? What importance does he play other than making Shiori more stressed?

Sirenko and Shiori don’t translate to anything evil, so there’s nothing there.

Is it important that the Zarina hall started with a Z? Was it hosted by Zoraxis?

Phoenix’s family got brought up, are they going to come back?

I am reading too much into everything, I know I am, and yet I cannot get my brain to unlock enough to actually find a good lead

After Phoenix found Calientes business he realized that the trick to finding Zoraxis was not by searching in the light but in the shadow. Phoenix would have figured this out eventually but they got a bit distracted.

I just felt like everyone forgot that we stole Zors hat and brought it with us on “vacation” it’s not seen in the next two games which I thought was crazy because I would never get rid of it. But yes it’s also a middle finger to Zor

Rebecca didn’t tell Ms. Shiori that she was going to the premiere. She also didn’t want Rebecca to meet Phoenix until the time was right for the secret to be revealed

Sirenko is the very head of the Agency and took over after Morales retired. The operation with Phoenix and juniper is so public and could go so wrong for the agency that he basically needs to be there to…not micromanage exactly but he’s ready to call in whatever agency resources are needed if things go really bad

Nah I just liked their names

Why would Zor need to hide secret cameras in the ballroom if Zoraxis was hosting?

I dont see phoenixs family coming back because I want the reader to fill in the blanks with their own families. I feel like people don’t acknowledge that Phoenix left their friends and family thinking they were dead 7 years ago though. That’s heartbreaking

#agent-calivide #ieytd #i expect you to die #ieytd2 #celebrity crush series #ieytd fandom

[lilpotatjj]

A/N: Here it starts! First of all, I'm not the director of HOTD or GOT so if something is different it's fine. It's an alternate universe. This chapter is just the start to build up the charakters and story so there will be alot more fluff, romance,angst and also maybe sex like the GOT style lol.

Uses of she/her

The suit that Bella wears looks a bit like the clothes of assassins (Assassins Creed)

Wordcount: 1.5k

Warning: mention of blood, swearwords

The start is almost the same like in the video which is awesome. For those who doesn't saw the HOTD enjoy or skip. Thought it fits perfect🫶🏻

Chapter 1

♧Merciless Queen... or not?♧

Heaven......

Clouds white as snow and a cold wind that whispers around your ears. Birds that fly by and try to avoid you as you break through the cloud cover at high speed.

2 great wings with a wingspan larger than any house in Kingslanding heroically spread and you soar over your own kingdom. The realm you inherited from your great-grandmother, Rhaenyra. Crowned Queen for the first time in history.

Sometimes you have fun and fly very close over the houses of your kingdom and make it clear that you are in charge, no matter what.

Bella looks up as you kick up the dust like every day, pulls her hood over her head and grabs some of the apples and grapes without paying.

"HEY YOU THIEF! Not again! You darn robbers!"

"lyka Horaxys!" (calm down) One of the servants commands your dragon, which snorts impatiently.

"they've struck again!".... "yes and we're already low on supplies!" .... "when will these thieves be caught!"... "they should all be burned!" a small crowd of people comes up to you and complains about the commotion the thieves are causing.

Horaxys, the golden yellow dragon, growls and wants to bend down to defend you. "JAGON (go) Horaxys!"you speak valyrian to your dragon, look arrogantly at the peasant folk and the dragon turns without reply.

"watch who you have before you, you filthy peasants!" A servant stands in front of you.

"I will take care of it and reinforce the guards. Send a few more guards into the city!" You turn around. "they are hooded thieves and all have a similar suit on. take care of yourself your highness."

The people depart and you pause thoughtfully for a moment, but then go to the throne.

"my queen....a new recruiter comes to visit you, he wishes to ask for your hand. He is great with dragons, he says." You just look completely annoyed. "let him in"

"your highness, my queen, i ask you to make me your consort. i have some qualities to offer and besides, i get along great with your dragons." he bows a little and looks at you. "By what assumption do you think you can handle my dragons well?" you look at him emotionlessly and unenthusiastically.

"i can be very assertive. so far i have been able to subdue everything, i am convinced of that" He smiles totally convinced of himself. You raise an eyebrow and stare at him. "send him to the dragon's nest"

"but your grace, that woul-...."

"he will surely want to show us what he can do! send him in and if he can win over a dragon he shall be my consort!" still unimpressed you look at the guy who realises this is his death sentence.

You smile with satisfaction while the man begins to struggle as the guards grab him. He screams and begs for forgiveness which does not interest you in any way.

"You truly bear the name 'The merciless queen' your....grace. But do not forget, after the death of your spouse and your right hand, you must marry soon. Otherwise the people will rebel and with the thieves who are obviously in cahoots here it will only become more unpleasant." One of the closer servants speaks to you and you look aside, pretty thoughtfull.

back in a house Bella puts her bow down on the table and looks at the others. "we need more supplies, the children are getting weaker!" She puts a card on the table and the others join her.

"I plan to steal the queen's supply. To do that, we have to take out the guards together. we have to make sure to stay covered and move slowly. I spy on the guards to know their routes." Bella explains.

"are you in your right mind? That would be certain death for us! going to the queen's stash is impossible and if we get caught we're dragon fodder!" the others complain.

"The children will all starve if we don't act!" she looks desperately at the others, who turn away. "You'd better go back to Bear Island, or we'll all be screwed because of you!"

Bella looks disappointed and grabs her bow with the map and leaves the room. "They're all cowards...they never had it bad themselves or they'd understand" she mumbles and climbs onto one of the higher points in the city. She marks every single guard and remembers the route of all of them. "We'll see...."

Dusk is slowly falling and Bella is getting ready. You look out of the window and seem thoughtful.

A gurgle and the first guard lies on the ground with blood pouring from his carotid artery, unable to scream. Bella continues to sneak past some guards who have not yet discovered the dead man. After 2 more dead guards, she climbs up to the large chamber when she is suddenly hit on the head from behind, passing out.

She is dragged behind by one of the guards, arms bound and no room to move.

"what... release me you little piece of shit!!!" With kicking and waving, however, she defends herself unsuccessfully.

"Your Grace one of the thieves has been captured" A guard speaks to you.

"Lock him up in the dungeon, I'll take care of him in the morning hours."

--Next Morning--

You sit in the throne and all you hear is nagging and swearing all the time when you can see who it's coming from. Bella, who has to be carried in by 2 guards as hard as she resists, finally looks at you and your eyes meet for the first time. You thought....

"What an honor...but who do I share it with here?" you look at her curiously.

"I'll tell you a shit!" .....

"can't you speak?" you tease her with a smile.

"Speak up when the queen asks you something!" one of the two guards pushes her, but you raise your hand. "enough....." you look at Bella "I know your face from somewhere.....I've definitely seen you somewhere else. Tell me your name, please...."

Bella glares at you and hesitates, but then she speaks. "Isabella May Ramsey Mormont...so what...I'm hungry, do you have anything to eat?"

"Bear Island... well well....you are the daughter of the great Catherine. Lady Mormont... what a surprise to see you here. I last saw you when you were just a child just like me. What are you doing here?"

You look at her curiously but Bella just looks down. "tell me.....you're grown up and should be in your castle, not here among the dirty folk."

"These people need food....the children. You're starving them!" She aggressively approaches you but is stopped by a guard.

"the last 2 years have been pretty bad....disease and hardly any seeds.....how do you think? the food falls from the sky?" You say it in a relaxed manner and look at her expectantly, almost as if you are playing with her. "What is that you're wearing...? Are you something like a....guild?

"I already told you....I'm not going to tell you a shit" You get up and go to her. "how old are you? You should go back to the island!"

"26.....does that matter?" she looks annoyed.

"If you leave now I will spare you...you are still so young and should lead your people! LADY MORMONT......" The undertone was on purpose and Bella looks at you but only grimaces aggressively. "I don't let anyone tell me what to do!" She spits in your face.

"Bring her to the dragon's nest! The dragons haven't had their breakfast yet!" you command angrily. "Let go of me you fucking Bastards! I'll kill you all! Let go of me!" she tries to fight but can't do anything.

You don't want to miss the spectacle and follow, when you arrive even Bella becomes quiet. There is only a low grumbling to be heard, but suddenly 2 red eyes looks directly into Bella's eyes. Her breathing quickens, but she shows no fear.

Horaxys approaches with a stomp and smells Bella. The wind of his breath blows in her face, which smells of a mixture of kerosene and spoiled meat. He suddenly yells at her, but Bella stops and just accepts her fate.

"Dracary's!" you give the order but Horaxys noticeably hesitates. He shakes and growls. You look at him confused and then at Bella. "DRACARY'S HORAXYS!" He shakes himself again and reluctantly raises his head, his throat begins to blaze and glow. He squeaks almost in pain, which you just can't ignore anymore.

He just wants to start but you stoped him. "Keligon (stop) Horaxys!" He jerks his head up and just misses Bella which is almost out of breath. "what is wrong with you?" Bella looks confused to you. "take her back into the dungeon!" completely confused, bella is brought back to the dungeon.

Next chap is in progress. If you liked it pls let me know ♡ :)

#bella ramsey #bella ramsey x fem!reader #bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey x y/n #bella ramsey x you #bellaramsey #bella ramsey fluff #bella ramsey fanfic #romance fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #long fanfic #Youtube